


Middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Football, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Footballer Louis, Homophobia, M/M, Racism, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:03:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1376554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey! Hey, you!” He turns to see Louis Tomlinson jogging towards him, his hair wild and a huge grin plastered on his face.</p><p>He stops in front of Harry and rests his hands on his knees. “You’re the one that punched that guy, aren’t you?” Harry nods, staring at the boy in front of him. “I’m sorry I slipped away without the chance to say thanks, but what you did for me in there was great and I can’t thank you enough.”</p><p> </p><p>Or the one where Harry's been in love since he was fifteen, Louis' taking a stand, Zayn just needs a little bit of reassurance, Liam loves Zayn with everything he has and Niall kind of wishes Louis had a vagina so he could be with him instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a work in progress for what feels like months but I'm really proud of it and I hope y'all love it.
> 
> Title taken from 505 by Arctic Monkeys, which just so happens to be my favourite song of all time.
> 
> I do not own One Direction. If I did, Zayn would be shagging me, not Liam.

Harry Styles has only ever punched four people in his life.

The first time he ever punched somebody was when he was five years old. Their teacher had announced that morning that there was to be a new student in the class and he had come all the way from Ireland, so people were to be nice to him because he was very nervous about being in a new country.

Harry had smiled and waved at the terrified looking boy, who even then was noticeably shorter than the rest of them. The teacher made him sit at a desk at the front though, so Harry didn’t get to make a new friend until later that day.

Later that day, Harry was walking down the hallway to the water fountain when he heard shouting.

“Hey, you speak funny! Talk properly, you idiot!”

Harry turned the corner to find two boys from his class holding the new boy up by the scruff of his collar against a wall. He was visibly shaking and Harry had walked straight up to the boys and demanded they put him down.

“Yeah?” sneered one of the boys. “What happens if we don’t?”

Harry responded by punching him in the jaw. The boy’s eyes widened in shock as he cradled his face and they both ran, shouting about telling a teacher. Harry turned to look at the new boy, who was smoothing down his uniform while trying to get his breathing back to normal.

“Sorry they did that to you,” Harry said.

“S’okay. Thank you for saving me. You didn’t have to punch for me though.”

Harry smiled and held out his hand. “My name’s Harry. You can be my friend if you want.”

The boy took his hand with a small smile. “I’m Niall. I didn’t think anyone would want to be my friend here, apparently it’s hard to understand what I’m saying so people are mean.”

Harry shook his head. “Nonsense, I can understand you! And you look nice and fun, I want to be your friend.”

“Then I guess we’re friends,” announced Niall happily, his smile finally reaching his eyes.

The second time Harry ever punched somebody was his first day of secondary school.

He and Niall had stayed firm friends for the rest of primary school and now they were headed off to big school together and Harry was sure he’d never been so nervous in his life. His mother told him that he’d be fine and he and Niall would have each other’s backs but Harry still barely slept the night before.

As they rounded a corner towards where their first classroom was supposed to be, both young boys watched in horror as a boy around their age was shoved into some lockers and his bag tipped upside down.

“Look at this! Paki even has curry for lunch, how cute!” drawled the bully in charge. He picked up the Tupperware and chucked it straight in the bin. The boy against the lockers whimpered and tried to fight away but another bully held him firmly in place.

“Haz…” Niall said warningly but Harry was already storming up to the boys, his face red with anger and fear.

“Put him down, what are you doing?!” he shouted. 

The boys stared at Harry then started to laugh hysterically. “Look at this! Paki boy has a cute little girlfriend!” The ringleader reached out and tugged on one of Harry’s curls. “Aren’t you adorable?”

Harry growled. “I said put him down, you’re hurting him!”

“Good! People like him need to be shown who’s boss around here and whose country this is!” the bully spat and Harry lost it and punched him.

He ended up in the Headmaster’s office twenty minutes later, sat in between the bully and the victim, who managed to whimper a thank you and a “my name is Zayn” to Harry as they were frogmarched there by a teacher.

“Boys! You two especially! It is your first day in this school and you’re already fighting!”

“Please, Sir,” began Harry. “It’s not Zayn’s fault, not at all. He was being bullied, they were calling him a Paki so I told them to stop and they wouldn’t and I just lost it, I’m really sorry.” He looked down at his hands.

“Is this true?” the headmaster looked at Zayn, who paused but after a few seconds nodded shyly.

The headmaster shook his head. “Mitchell, I have already seen you far too many times about racist behaviour. You cannot keep acting like this and expecting nothing to come from it.” He sighed and picked up his pen. “You two may leave. No more fighting, Styles, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, sir!” chirped Harry before hurrying out the office.

Zayn, Niall and Harry became inseparable after that.

The third time Harry punched somebody, he was in his last year before university.

He was piss drunk at some anonymous house party when a guy that he’d never seen before came up to him and announced that he’d not only shagged Harry’s sister, but she was an excellent lay and he’d “penetrate her in any orifice she wanted next time”. 

Harry floored him then vomited on his own shoes.

The fourth time Harry punches somebody, he’s in a bar and some homophobic asshole has decided corner this shorter guy against the wall by the bathroom and yell in his face that he’s a faggot and he shouldn’t be here.

Harry’s out celebrating his last day of his second year at Manchester University with Zayn, Niall, Zayn’s boyfriend Liam, Niall’s girlfriend Danielle and a few of their other friends; Eleanor, Josh, Sophia, Aiden and Ed. They’re at a bar that Harry’s never been to before and he can now see why; it’s filled with angry locals who seem to be looking for fights.

He hears the dreaded ‘f’ word and is up in a heartbeat, despite Zayn’s grip on his wrist in an attempt to pull him back. Harry shakes it off and marches straight over to the brute, snapping at him to let the bloke go when he realises with a double take and a gasp that the man pinned to the wall is none other than _Louis Tomlinson._

Zayn’s hand wraps around his wrist again and the man turns round and sneers. “What’s wrong, darling? You and the Paki princess over here got a problem with me?”

Zayn flinches at the word and then Liam is over there in two seconds, grabbing the man by the shoulder and growling “what did you just say?” dangerously as the man stumbles and attempts to catch himself.

“You heard me,” he taunts back. “Are you the Paki’s faggot boyfriend then? He’s pretty; I’ll give you that but is it difficult to get the constant smell of curry out your bed sheets?”

“Don’t you dare, don’t you _dare_ speak about him like that, you ugly ignorant bastard!” snarls Liam. He’s a tall bloke, taller than Harry and he’s usually got a kind face and kind eyes but right now Harry fears that the bully may just be torn limb from limb. He hasn’t seen Liam this angry for a good few years.

“Paki scum!” the man jeers one last time and that’s it; Harry storms forward and punches him square on the nose. The man tumbles back against the wall in shock and Harry watches as Louis takes this opportunity to slip away and towards the door.

Harry barely registers this as a hand grabs him by the sleeve of his shirt and him and all his friends are being thrown out and told to never return.

“Gladly, you shower of cunts!” calls Niall as he flips the bartender off and pulls a protective arm around Danielle’s waist. “Bloody hell, Haz, I haven’t seen you clock anyone like that since Mike Jarvis’ party!”

Harry is breathing deeply and Liam has a quivering Zayn in a tight embrace next to him, murmuring reassurances softly and gently into his ear.

The thing is, the small town close to Wolverhampton that the boys were raised in was pretty small and very white majority. Many people were stuck in their old traditional mining family ways and Zayn and his sisters were the only coloured people in their entire school. As such, the insult ‘Paki’ was one that Zayn got a lot growing up, and despite how much he insisted it didn’t bother him, both Harry and Niall knew him better than that.

Things had gotten better when they’d started sixth form and they met Liam. Liam was the jock type and played a lot of football and he did boxing and insanely popular to begin with but he was completely arse over tit for Zayn from pretty much their first day of A-levels and if anyone so much as sneezed in Zayn’s direction he would put them in their place.

Over the years, Zayn had begun to cover his tan skin with tattoo after tattoo, his right arm now completely covered and the beginnings of a sleeve beginning on his left, as well as other pieces all over his body. He claims that he gets them because he likes them and Liam finds them sexy but again both Harry and Niall know him well enough to know that there’s more to it than that.

Since all four of them came away to Manchester, however, Harry thinks it must be two years at least since somebody had used that word at Zayn and he’s so upset at how upset it’s made his best friend that he’d gladly punch that guy another twenty times, at least. He’s not a violent person in the slightest but he’s possibly the most loyal friend you could ever want and he would kill for Zayn or Niall or Liam in a heartbeat.

“Think I’m going to take this one home,” says Liam softly to Harry, his arms still wrapped tightly around his boyfriend’s smaller frame. Harry nods and opens his mouth to reply when he hears a shout from down the road.

“Hey! Hey, you!” He turns to see Louis Tomlinson jogging towards him, his hair wild and a huge grin plastered on his face.

He stops in front of Harry and rests his hands on his knees. “You’re the one that punched that guy, aren’t you?” Harry nods, staring at the boy in front of him. “I’m sorry I slipped away without the chance to say thanks, but what you did for me in there was great and I can’t thank you enough.”

He then turns to Liam and Zayn. “Hiya; look I’m sorry they were so horrible to you two, you especially,” he says sincerely, resting a hand on Zayn’s shoulder. “Thank you so much though for stepping in. I shouldn’t have been in there in the first place so it’s entirely my fault, but thanks, just thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Liam says back, his eyes wide as his eyes dart between Louis and Harry, awestruck.

“Anyway,” Louis says, turning back to Harry. “I just want to say thanks again and also I wanted to ask you…” He pauses, putting emphasis on the pause for Harry to give him his name.

“Harry,” he supplies.

“Yeah, ask you, Harry, if you wanted to go for a drink with me. To say thank you. Please.” Louis suddenly blushes and Harry’s eyes double in size.

“You want to go for a drink with me?!” he squeaks. Niall roars a laugh from behind him until Danielle slaps him on the belly.

“Well, yeah, just thought I’d offer you know. You don’t have to but I really just wanted to say thanks…” Louis’ blush deepens and Harry grapples for the ability to speak English.

“Yeah, yeah, that… that sounds brilliant, honestly fucking brilliant! Yeah I’m such a fan, by the way, Liam and me here both are…!”

“Harry!” Niall hisses and Harry shuts up.

Louis beams. “Brilliant!” He pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to Harry. “See when you’re free and give me a call. Nice to meet you all!” He gives the group a small wave and jogs back in the direction he appeared and the rest of the group just stare at each other before Liam clears his throat.

“So did Harry just manage to wrangle himself a date with Louis Tomlinson?”

Niall loses it at that, holding onto a lamppost in order to keep himself standing because he’s laughing so hard. Danielle’s giggling into the back of her hand next to him and Zayn is laughing softly into Liam’s chest and pretty soon all of them are in hysterics because the situation is so fucking unreal.

“Yeah, I think he did,” Aiden finally manages to wheeze out before they’re gone again, laughing and laughing until they’ve all finally got their breath back.

“Well, are you going to call him?” asks Zayn.

“You better call him or I will,” demands Liam, which promptly earns him a light smack on the chest from Zayn.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here. Don’t fancy being around when that dickhead leaves,” says Harry and the group set off down the streets of Manchester, Harry in a total fucking daze because in his pocket he has _Louis Tomlinson’s phone number holy fucking shit._

The thing is, Louis Tomlinson is quite possibly one of the most famous people in Britain. He plays for Manchester United and last year photos emerged of him kissing a gorgeous Burberry model at some press event which promptly threw him out of the closet and into the spotlight. Both Harry and Liam as big football fans, Harry for Manchester United especially, had always had a bit of a thing for him and when Harry’s wank fantasy came out the closet, well, Harry had just ended up wanking all that much harder.

Since moving into their flat, a large poster of Louis Tomlinson has taken pride of place in their living room. Both Zayn and Niall had groaned as Liam tacked it up above the sofa but they’d compromised and allowed Zayn a Batman poster and Niall a Justin Bieber poster so it seemed fair.  
They all elect to go home after tonight’s events rather than out because none of them are really feeling it anymore. Niall gets in a cab with Danielle back to the flat she shares with Sophia and Eleanor and Harry goes back to their own flat with Liam and Zayn. 

Zayn walks straight into the bathroom when they get there, claiming he just wants a shower. Harry nods and heads into his own room to get changed into trackies and a baggy top that’s quite possibly Liam’s, who even knows in this flat?

Before heading back to the kitchen, he pulls out the piece of paper with Louis’ number on it and stares at it for a good thirty seconds before pulling out his phone and tapping Louis in as a new contact, his nervous fingers inputting it wrong several times.

Liam is leaning against the kitchen counter with his hands over his face as Harry pads barefoot into the kitchen to boil a kettle to make them all tea. Instead, he wraps his arms tightly around Liam’s shoulders and holds him until his breathing returns to normal. 

“Thanks for punching him, Haz. I know you shouldn’t have had to but fuck, I was so close, so damn close, the little _cunt_ …”

“Hey, hey. It’s fine, Liam, it’s fine. I’d do it for any of you but especially that, I cannot deal with fuckers like that. Nobody deserves that, least of all Zayn, yeah?”

“I know Haz, I know.” He grips Harry’s shoulder tightly. “You’re one of the best friends any one could ask for, you know that, right?”

Liam’s still breathing heavily and he’s shaking slightly. “Liam, are you okay?”

There’s a pause. “I’m just, I’m so mad Harry. How _dare_ he? How dare he pick on someone for being gay then how dare he use someone else’s race against them, how fucking _dare_ he?” he spits out. 

Harry steers Liam over to the sofa and finally flicks the kettle on. They definitely all need a cup of tea. He faintly hears the shower click off in the background and he pours out the three drinks and carries them carefully over to their coffee table. Liam picks his up and nods gratefully at Harry before sipping it gently.

“We live in a fucking horrible world, Li. I’ll never understand why people can’t just like people, why everyone has to label everything all the damn time,” Harry says glumly from his place on their loveseat.

Liam looks up from his drink with tears in his eyes. “I just, I love him so much, you know? And like, I’d rather that guy had laid a thousand punches on me than I ever have to see his face like that.”

Harry moves over from the loveseat and gently rubs a soothing hand up and down Liam’s leg while he cries into his hands. Zayn must have heard because he hurries into the living room in shirtless and barefoot, dropping onto the sofa and pulling Liam into his arms.

“Hey, Li, hey, baby, it’s okay. I’m okay, don’t cry please, ssssshhhh,” Zayn coos as he pulls him in impossibly closer, Harry still rubbing gently at his legs.

Liam hiccups and moves away enough to cup Zayn’s face with both his hands. “I can’t bear to see you look that hurt, ever. I just…” His face crumples again and Zayn moves in to cup his face instead, pressing his lips gently against Liam’s tear-stained ones.

“I’m not going to pretend it didn’t hurt but we’re away from there now babe and it’s not like we’re going to be going back any time soon,” he whispers gently.

“You shouldn’t be the one reassuring me here,” croaks Liam, his hands coming up to cover Zayn’s on his cheeks. 

Harry moves back over to the loveseat to let the couple have their moment. He drifts away into his own world and stares at the poster of Louis on their wall. He’s smiling softly, his floppy hair framing his face as he stares out onto a football pitch, a football tucked under his arm proudly. He looks beautiful there but it’s nothing quite like how he looks in person, Harry thinks.

He looks back over to his friends and Zayn has crawled into the space between Liam’s legs and is lying flush against his chest, peppering their linked hands with little kisses as Liam’s other hand cards gently through Zayn’s thick wet hair. They look so content with each other that Harry feels a pang of jealously for a few seconds until Zayn clears his throat.

“So, Haz, Louis fucking Tomlinson, eh?” 

Harry grins despite himself. “Yeah, Louis fucking Tomlinson. Can you fucking believe it?”

“No,” Zayn snorts. “I can’t believe he was blushing so hard when he asked you out. I mean, he’s Louis Tomlinson.”

“Gee, thanks pal,” Harry drawls before chuckling softly. “To be honest, I thought Liam’s face was funnier.”

“Heeeeey!” chirps Liam indignantly. “What are you supposed to do if your idol comes up to you like that? I didn’t even notice it was him in the bar so it was even more of a shock!”

Harry laughs even harder and Zayn turns around to kiss the pout off Liam’s face. 

“So are you going to call him?” Liam questions after Zayn’s settled back into his previous position.

Harry pulls his phone out of his loose sweatpants pocket and begins turning it over in his fingers nervously. “I guess so. I’d be a fool not to call my celebrity crush who wants to go out with me, wouldn’t I?”

“Well I was serious when I said if you didn’t call him I would,” Liam warns jokingly. Zayn simply raises an eyebrow in the direction of his boyfriend and he’s at least pretending to look sheepish as he pulls his boyfriend closer.

Harry decides to wait a few days before calling him anyway. His phone feels heavier than before, like the phone number stored in there is weighing him down, almost taunting him. It’s five days after the incident when Niall throws a satsuma at his head across the living room and tells him to grow a pair of fucking testicles that he relents, flipping his flatmates off as they catcall after him as he walks to his bedroom.

Louis picks up after three rings and answers with a casual and curious “’Yello?” and Harry forgets how to form a sentence.

“Louis? Hi, it’s er, it’s Harry. From the other night. Hi.” He silently screams at his reflection in his wardrobe mirror at his own lameness.

“Harry, hi! I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me, even after you’d claimed you were a fan as well,” Louis says with a chuckle.

Harry flushes and is so, _so_ grateful Louis can’t see him.

“Yeah. Sorry about that, you know how it is. Uni deadlines and all.”

“You’re still at uni until the end of June?” Louis asks curiously and Harry silently face palms.

“Yeah, okay, no, we finished about a week ago,” he says feebly. “I was just nervous, I guess.”

Louis laughs, a strong belly laugh that makes Harry smile through the blush. “What on earth for, babe? I asked you to call, didn’t I?”

“Yeah I know but…” Harry scratches the back of his neck nervously. “I don’t know, I didn’t know if you were just doing it because you felt compelled to.” His jaw drops at his own revelation and he balls his free hand into a fist and hits himself in the forehead furiously. 

Louis barks out another laugh. “Harry, mate, I asked you out because you’re damn hot and I owe you big time, yeah? Don’t sound so nervous, I’m only human.”

Harry grins despite himself. “Sorry. Anyway, I was calling to let you know I’m free this weekend, if you’re still interested?” He puts a nervous inflection on the last word and Louis makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a snort and an indignant huff.

“Have I not made it clear yet that I am rather interested?”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles.

“Stop apologising and give me your address so I know where to pick you up from.”

Harry rattles it off shakily and he hears the light scratch of a pen as Louis scribbles it down. 

“Excellent. Be ready at seven on Friday. Wear something sexy. I’m going to wine and dine you proper, yeah?”

The startled sound that comes out of Harry’s throat makes Louis laugh the hardest he has so far. “I’ll take that as a yes. Bye, babe!”

He hangs up without another word and Harry stares at the phone in his hand dumbly before sliding it into his back pocket and padding back into the kitchen. 

Niall, Liam and Zayn are all sat on the sofa eating lunch as Harry re-emerges. 

“So?” Niall shouts through a mouthful of sandwich.

“He’s taking me out on Friday night. Told me to wear something sexy,” Harry says mournfully as he flops down in the loveseat.

“Well, Christ, you could at least pretend to be excited,” Liam says bewilderedly. 

“He told me to dress sexy! I don’t dress sexy, I don’t _do_ sexy!”

“Oh shut up. We’ll go shopping tomorrow, you priss,” says Zayn with an eye roll.

Harry reaches over and steals a few crisps from the bag on the table. “Thanks Zee,” he splutters out with his mouth full. 

Niall snatches the bag from the table and empties the contents into his mouth, causing the other three boys to groan as crumbs cover the sofa. “Look, Harry, just wear those tight jeans you love so much and that stupid button up that you always wear when you want to pull and undo it so he can see all four of your nipples. If I swung your way I’d do you in that outfit.”

Harry beams and Zayn rolls his eyes again. “Shut up Niall. This is Louis Tomlinson we’re talking about. He’s not going to take you somewhere cheap, is he? Nobody at The Ivy is going to want to see your disfigured four-nippled torso.”

“You don’t think he’s going to take me all the way to London, do you?” Harry squeaks.

“Probably not, to be fair. But you get what I mean. So tomorrow, you and me, shopping. We’ll find you a nice shirt and a pair of shoes that don’t look like they’ll fall apart if it started to rain and maybe even a haircut.”

“He doesn’t need a haircut!” Liam says fondly, leaning over to stroke Harry’s curls. Zayn raises an eyebrow and Liam shrugs. “What? I like his curls. They make me miss mine.”

“Okay babe,” Zayn says with a shake of his head, rubbing the short hairs at the back of Liam’s head. Liam leans back from Harry and into the touch, resting his head on Zayn’s shoulder and Harry is once again struck by just how much he wants this in life.

“Fuck, you guys, I’m going on a date with Louis Tomlinson. _Louis Tomlinson!_ ”

“You may have mentioned,” chirps Niall, who is now on the floor setting up the X-Box. “Now shut up and let me kick your arse at FIFA.”

The next day, Harry lets an eager Zayn drag him round several shops and lets him thrust outfit after outfit at him enthusiastically. Zayn is without a doubt the vainest human being that Harry has ever met and if he wasn’t his best friend then he’d probably find it a bit lame, but right now he’s super grateful because unlike Liam (whose wardrobe is mostly plaid button ups and plain white t-shirts) and Niall (who lives in vests and sweatpants and who rarely even wears boxers) Zayn has style.

Harry ends up with a black shirt with some absurd skull pattern on it, a new blazer, a new pair of boots and several new t-shirts after he manages to drag Zayn to his favourite thrift shop after insisting that vintage was still cool and yes, he’d pay for lunch.

Laden with their new purchases, the two eventually traipse home and Harry does an absurd catwalk show around their living room while Niall blasts Aerosmith over their speakers. Harry has to admit, he doesn’t actually look half bad in the shirt even though it’s something he’d never usually pick and he definitely doesn’t want to think about the state of his bank account.

The next day, Harry paces the whole flat nervously until four when he decides that three hours is the right amount of time he needs to get ready. He showers thoroughly (you never know how the night is going to end up, after all), blow dries his hair and styles it so his curls aren’t flopping in his face, sprays himself with his favourite cologne and deodorant and then dresses. It’s now half five and Harry mentally face palms before stepping out into the living room, thinking he’ll just watch TV until the time comes.

As he walks out his bedroom, however, he’s greeted with the smell of frying onions and the sight of Zayn dancing around wildly to Justin Timberlake.

“Zayn! I’m going to smell of onions now, you twat!”

Zayn whips round and gives Harry his signature eye roll. “Harry, do you know what time it is? You have ages, mate! Also just because you’ve got a date with a superstar doesn’t mean everyone else’s Friday has to change and Friday night is curry night, you know that.”

Harry groans loudly then ducks back into his room to change, emerging a minute later in just a pair of shorts. Zayn laughs as Harry shimmies back into the kitchen and they dance to Justin Timberlake as Zayn puts his curry on to simmer until they hear Liam come back home from work at half six. Harry ducks back into his room as Zayn lets Liam press him up against the kitchen. 

He re-emerges fully dressed at six fifty-five and ignores the fact that Zayn and Liam are still snogging and paces the kitchen some more, checking his hair in the living room window and then paces some more. 

There’s a buzz at the door at two minutes past seven. Harry squawks and Zayn and Liam break apart and then Niall’s bedroom door is flung open and he’s tripping over his own feet to run out of his bedroom to answer the buzzer before the other three can get to it. Harry hadn’t even known he was in.

“Hellooooo?” Niall says, blowing Harry a silent kiss. “Louis, my man! Of course you can come up!” he practically yells, pushing his thumb into the button that opens the main door. Harry’s eyes are wide and he checks his hair one last time before there’s a soft knocking at the door. 

He takes a deep breath and opens it quickly. Louis is standing there looking handsome as ever, his hair quiffed without anything out of place, in a tight denim shirt and black jeans with a pair of TOMS on his feet. He has a single red rose in his hand and a huge smile on his face.

“Hello, Harry!” he says with a smile. He gives Harry a quick once-over and nods approvingly. “You know, I did say dress sexy, not dress for Milan.”

Harry flushes and says “Er, sorry?”

“Don’t be sorry,” Louis says with a small laugh and then his eyes widen. “Is that… is that a poster of me?!”

Harry whips round and his eyes lock on the poster of Louis. Zayn, Liam, Niall and apparently Danielle are all sniggering either the backs of their hands or their partner’s chests. He scrunches his eyes up and flips them all off before turning back to Louis with a sheepish grin.

“Wasn’t lying when I said we were big fans,” he says with what he hopes is a nonchalant shrug.

Louis smirks and reaches forward to link their hands, before calling over Harry’s shoulder “I’ll have him back by the morning, night boys and girls!”

“Use protection!” comes Niall’s catcall from behind and Harry flushes but Louis ignores it and drags Harry downstairs where his gorgeous Audi R8 is waiting. He opens Harry’s side and lets him slide in before handing him the rose and going round to his own side and starting up the engine. 

“So where are we off to?” asks Harry almost nervously.

“Somewhere fabulous, just for you, my little Italian model,” singsongs Louis, never taking his eyes off the road. The drive takes about twenty minutes, leading them out of Manchester and in that time their conversation leaves Harry feeling a lot more comfortable, despite the fact that he’s in a fucking Audi with his childhood hero who’s already said he might keep Harry for the whole night.

They pull up outside a huge country estate which has tables spread across an open patch of grass. Harry gasps and Louis grins as he parks up, getting out first before helping Harry out the door, bowing like a Prince and kissing Harry’s hand. 

Louis then links their fingers and leads Harry over to the entrance, where a waiter is stood holding two menus. 

“Bonjour, Mr. Tomlinson! Usual table, non?”

“Bonjour, Eric! Please, although no need for menus, I believe the chef has been told my plans and is sending out our meals accordingly.”

The waiter nods and leads them to a table at the far end of the grass. It’s a warm evening and there’s a band playing in one corner on a small bandstand and Harry couldn’t have conjured up a more romantic evening in his head if he tried.

Louis pulls out his chair and Harry sits down grinning as Louis takes his own seat. 

“Louis, this is incredible. You really didn’t have to do all this,” Harry says with yet another blush. 

“Yes, I did,” replies Louis firmly, reaching out to lace their fingers across the table. “You saved my arse, babe, it’s the least I can do. Plus you’re fucking gorgeous, in case you didn’t already know, so it’s really no biggie for me.”

Harry grins. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I already know your opinion of me. The poster told me enough,” Louis smirks and Harry has to laugh.

“I cannot _believe_ you saw that. I completely forgot, it’s just been up long enough that I don’t really notice it anymore.”

“Wow, Harold, way to make me feel appreciated.”

Harry shakes his head frantically. “That’s not what I meant!” but Louis cuts him off with another of his deep laughs.

“I’m joking, babe,” he says, giving Harry’s fingers a squeeze. “I hope you like chicken, by the way.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “I am quite the chicken fan, as it happens. What kind of chicken are we talking?”

As if on cue three waiters appear, two holding giant cloches and one holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses. The cloches are placed in front of them and their glasses are swiftly filled with champagne before the waiters whip the lid of the cloches, revealing…

“Nando’s?!” Harry says with a huge laugh. Louis grins with his mouth around a chip. 

“Well, to be honest with you, I’m not really one for tiny portions of chicken doused in fancy-schmancy sauce when I could be eating this beautiful thing. But I am a big fan of the view here.” He pops another chip into his mouth. “Plus I wanted to impress you.”

Harry beams as he digs in. It’s delicious – he’s been friends with Niall since he was five, for crying out loud, he knows good Nando’s – and he can’t believe that Louis did all this for him. 

Conversation flows easily and Louis is really easy to get along with, making easy jokes and slipping compliments into every sentence. Harry flirts back shamelessly because Louis is actually his dream guy both in looks and in personality and he wants him to tell him he looks like an Italian model every day for the foreseeable future.

When they leave (Louis tells him the bill has already been taken care of) Harry follows Louis back to the car. Louis clicks the car unlocked and bends down to open the car door but Harry crowds him up against the car and places his large hands on Louis’ tiny waist. Louis raises a careful eyebrow suggestively but Harry’s already covering Louis’ lips with his own, kissing him slowly and tenderly.

Louis kisses back eagerly, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and slipping his tongue into his mouth. Harry makes a needy sound and pulls him impossibly closer, not wanting this to ever end. Both boys break away as the need for air becomes too much and they stand looking at each other panting, eyes filled with lust and excitement.

“So, you’re coming back to mine,” says Louis almost conversationally as he pulls the car door open, pecks Harry’s lips one last time and practically shoves him inside. Harry scrabbles for his seatbelt and then Louis is in the driver’s seat, slicking his hair out of his face and struggling to put the key in the ignition. 

Turns out Louis lives only fifteen minutes away in Alderly Edge, which is known around Manchester as Footballer Land, so Harry isn’t that shocked when they pull up outside a beautiful house with a large sweeping gate and rose bushes leading down the driveway. Louis presses a button on his keys and the gates swing open and he speeds down the driveway, sending gravel flying in all directions.

The second the car is parked both boys are out the car and heading towards the front door. Harry presses himself up against Louis’ back as he fumbles with his door key and the second they’re both inside Louis spins round and presses Harry hard against the door, licking into his mouth.

For someone so much shorter than him, Louis can manhandle Harry surprising well, pinning both Harry’s arms to his side. They kiss heatedly and their tongues battle for dominance and then suddenly Louis is pulling away and gives Harry a cheeky grin before he drops to his knees.

Harry gulps and tries to get his breathing back to normal but that’s pretty fucking difficult as Louis Tomlinson just dropped to his knees for Harry and Louis Tomlinson is currently undoing the buttons on his jeans and Louis Tomlinson is now stroking him to full hardness and _Jesus Christ_ , Louis Tomlinson is putting his dick in his mouth and he can see the outline of his dick in _Louis Tomlinson’s cheek_.

“Louis!” Harry breathes out, his chest tight. He fists his hands in Louis’ hair and that just seems to spur Louis on, his mouth sliding down to reach where his fist is stroking. Louis is a fucking expert with his tongue and the way he looks up at Harry is something Harry has wanked over for fucking _years_ and he’s definitely committing it to his permanent memory.

It really doesn’t take all that long for Harry to come and the only real warning he’s able to give Louis is a hurried tug on his hair. Louis seems to get the message as Harry’s knees start to buckle and then he’s pulling off just enough so he’s still suckling the head as Harry spills down his throat.

“Jesus,” Harry breathes out as he watches Louis swallow down his cum and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Just Louis will suffice,” Louis says from the floor, the smile evident in his voice. Harry drops down to meet Louis on the floor and then they’re kissing again.

Louis is hard, so hard in his tight jeans so Harry quickly undoes the buttons and frees him from his confines, slipping both his shoes off before pulling down both his jeans and boxers so he’s completely naked from the waist down as he takes his cock in hand.

He fists Louis in earnest and Louis throws his head back, hitting his head on the wooden floor. Harry mutters a “c’mon Louis!” and then Louis is crying and spilling all over Harry’s fist before slumping completely to the floor.

Harry undoes his shirt as best he can one-handed (he briefly thinks Zayn would _skin_ him if he saw him wipe the cum on his specially picked out shirt) but then he does just that and shimmies out of his trousers and boxers properly so both boys are lying in Louis’ hallway naked (save for Louis’ shirt) and completely spent.

Louis reaches out and wraps a small hand around Harry’s wrist and manoeuvres Harry so he’s lying with his head pillowed on Louis’ chest. They lie there for a long time as they catch their breath and Louis’ fingers toy with Harry’s hair making him purr.

“You’re such a feline,” Louis says finally with a grin. Harry snorts and moves to stand, reaching down to take Louis’ hand to help him stand too. Louis takes it and stands up in front of Harry, running his fingers up and down Harry’s bare arms.

“I like these a lot,” he says, thumbing gently over Harry’s tattoos. Harry groans and ducks down to capture Louis’ lips once more, his hands moving from his waist to his bare bum.

Louis’ arms snake around Harry’s shoulders tightly and then Harry is hoisting Louis up into his arms and towards the stairs, ignoring the pile of clothes littering the front hall. Louis squawks into Harry’s mouth but wraps his legs around Harry’s waist and lets himself be carried up the stairs carefully. 

“Which one’s your bedroom?” Harry says against Louis’ lips. Louis points to the room at the far end of the hallway and Harry stumbles to the end of the hallway and flings the door open. It’s a huge room with a huge black bed in the centre and two huge wardrobes on the other side. There’s a large window with a little window seat on the far side with a cat curled up asleep on it.

“Ah shit,” swears Louis and wriggles himself out of Harry’s arms to scoop the cat up and deposit it outside in the hallway. He turns around but Harry is right up in his space again, kissing him breathless and fumbling to finally remove his shirt. 

Louis frogmarches them backwards so they fall onto the bed, his shirt falling from his shoulders into a crumpled mess on the floor. They kiss each other breathless for a long time and Harry can feel himself getting hard again, _holy shit_.

He realises Louis must have felt it too because he’s suddenly grinding down with a smirk and Harry is moaning but fucking up to match the grinds. Louis is fattening up above him and it doesn’t take much for them both to fall over the edge just grinding against each other, Harry first then Louis less than a minute later.

Both boys are completely covered in each other’s spunk and as Louis rolls onto his back he gives out a breathy chuckle. Harry joins in a few seconds later and they both lie there on this giant bed until Louis stands up and pads naked to his connected bathroom, coming back with a wet flannel that he’s dabbing at his own chest before he moves onto Harry.

Harry can’t resist kissing him again. Louis makes a whine of protest as he starts kissing him before he’s fully clean but eventually relents and tosses the wet flannel to the floor, pulling Harry onto his side so they can kiss properly.

“Tonight has been…” Louis starts.

“Fucking amazing,” Harry finishes and then flushes but Louis grins and kisses him again.

“You’re still nervous, that’s cute.”

“I’m not nervous!” whines Harry but Louis just laughs into his mouth and kisses him again and again until Harry can’t remember what it’s like not to have Louis’ mouth on his.

They kiss until Harry breaks it to say “I can’t believe the first time I got to touch you was on the floor of your hallway. I can never tell the lads about this.”

“Nice to know you’re thinking about your best mates while kissing me,” Louis drawls. Harry just grins sheepishly in response.

“Can I stay?”

“Absolutely not, Harold. You’re a liability. I want you off my property now.”

Harry laughs and slips his tongue back into Louis’ mouth, who pulls him closer. 

“I’ll tell you a secret. I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay here and kiss me until we have to go back to real life, which hopefully will be never.”

“I don’t have to go back to uni until September,” Harry offers eagerly.

“Lucky you. I have to go to Barcelona next week so I suppose we can kiss until then as a nice compromise.”

“Sounds excellent.”

Harry isn’t sure when they fall asleep but he wakes up the next morning with a huge ache in his bladder and a solid weight on his right arm. He almost does a double take when he sees that that solid weight is in fact the boy he’s been in love with since he can remember but then he remembers last night and he can’t help but grin excitedly into the back of his hand as it all comes flooding back.

He presses a light kiss on Louis’ forehead as he wriggles free and pads to the bathroom. He finally pisses and then hunts around for a spare toothbrush, which he finds under the sink. He brushes his teeth and sprays himself with some of the deodorant on the side of the sink then heads back to bed, where Louis is stirring softly.

“Good morning,” Harry says gently as Louis’ eyes flutter open. He looks disorientated for a second but then his eyes register and he’s pulling Harry in for a long kiss, which Harry happily returns.

After a few minutes of kissing, Louis pushes him off gently so he himself can go through the bathroom and when he returns he plonks himself down in Harry’s lap, interlocking their fingers.

“So if I haven’t already made it clear enough that I want to see you again then I’m going to say it out loud now. Harry, I want to see you again.”

“I want to see you again too,” Harry says, kissing the top of Louis’ sweaty head.

“Well, that’s settled then. I’m taking you out again tomorrow night.”

Harry stills. The thing is, Sunday night is Boy’s Night and always has been – Niall is under strict instructions to send Danielle home and Liam and Zayn at least attempt to not be all over each other.

Louis turns around, confused. “Are you- Is that a problem? Do you not want to be seen with me or something? Because if it’s paps you’re worried about then I can take you…”

“No, no, it’s not that at all!” Harry reassures. “God, this is going to sound lame as hell but Sunday night is Boy’s Night.” He winces because they really need a better goddamn name for it.

“Okay, so I guess I could come to that,” Louis says thoughtfully after a pause. Harry chokes on air. “What, Harold? I am a boy, I thought you would have picked up on that by now.”

“No, no, I know,” he says dumbly. “It’s just, fuck, Liam is going to have a field day and Zayn is going to glare at you for a lot of the night and Niall is going to be in stitches and I’m going to be cringing and…”

Louis kisses him to shut him up. “I don’t care. I want to be with you and I want to get to know your friends.”

“Okay,” says Harry breathlessly and Louis grins. 

“Do you need me to drive you home? I did promise your friends I would have you back by the morning, did I not?”

“I thought we were kissing until Barcelona?” Harry whines with a pout and goes to kiss Louis again.

“If only we could, but alas, I have training at two. However, tomorrow I will kiss you silly until Barcelona, if you’ll have me.”

“I don’t think I could say no to that if someone held a knife to my throat,” Harry says, cupping Louis’ face in his hands and stroking his thumb across his cheekbones. He then flushes and says “I may need to borrow a top. I think mine has your cum all over it.”

“That it has, young Harry. It’s also all the way downstairs anyway so I’ll lend you whatever you need. If you start wandering around my house naked then I may have to pin you down and go for round three, but sadly I do not have the time.”

Harry moans in protest as Louis shuffles off him and pads naked over to his wardrobe, pulling out a packet of new boxers and tossing a pair at Harry, followed by a pair of sweatpants that will definitely be too short and an old football jersey, TOMLINSON 17 written across the back.

Harry can’t help but beam as he shuffles into the clothes. The trackies reach his mid-calf and if he raises his arms to hold Louis round his shoulders the shirt shows the butterfly on his stomach but he somehow can’t bring himself to care.

“Oh, one last thing,” says Louis as he pulls his own t-shirt over his head. He gently pushes Harry back onto the bed and sucks at his neck, leaving a large purple bruise behind. Harry groans at the feeling as Louis’ tongue dances out to soothe over the darkening mark. Once he’s satisfied, Louis shuffles up further and pecks Harry on the nose before jumping off the bed and scurrying downstairs.

Harry follows after a few seconds, his fingers brushing over the tender spot. He finds Louis at the bottom of the stairs, carefully folding Harry’s clothes with the cat from last night purring across his ankles.

Harry drops down in front of the cat and scratches it gently behind the ears. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” he says and he can practically hear Louis’ eyes rolling above him.

“Christ, Harold. This is KitKat. KitKat, this great lumbering idiot is Harold.”

Harry scoops KitKat up in his arms. “Ignore Lou, KitKat, I’m not a great lumbering idiot. I think he might be for giving you the name KitKat.”

“My sister named her actually. She was found near dead on a street near them in Doncaster but Lottie found her and nursed her back to health, she had a lucky break, get it?”

Harry kisses the top of KitKat’s head and lets her drop to the floor where she scuttles into the kitchen. “That’s so cute!”

Louis rolls his eyes again. “Shut up and put your shoes on. I want a McDonald’s breakfast and we have like ten minutes before they stop serving.”

Louis buys Harry a Bacon McMuffin and a tea despite his protests and then drives him back to his flat. He gives him one final bruising kiss and promises to be back at seven the next day with plenty of pizza so he can “woo the besties” and drives off with a wave, leaving Harry standing with in his too-short trackies with a bag full of soiled clothes in one hand and his rose in the other.

He trudges up the stairs with a shit-eating grin on his face and lets himself into his flat, not even bothering to be quiet because he’s just that happy. Liam is the only one in the living room, dressed in his running clothes and eating a large bowl of cereal in front of some cartoons. He snaps the TV off the second he sees Harry, however and launches himself at him.

“YOU SLEPT WITH HIM, DIDN’T YOU?” he hollers and Harry laughs into Liam’s shoulder as he hugs him tightly.

“Not slept with, but we’re definitely more than friends right now,” he says, trying to bite back his grin. Liam squeals like a small child and picks Harry up and spins him round, Harry batting him away playfully.

“Oi, put him down, I’m going to get a complex soon,” comes Zayn’s voice from their bedroom door. He’s wearing a pair of Liam’s trackies and is scratching lazily at his hip, clearly still half asleep but grinning broadly despite that. “First Louis sodding Tomlinson, now our best mate.”

Liam sets Harry down and walks over to his boyfriend, kissing him tenderly on the forehead and wrapping an arm around his waist. “Lucky for you Harry got laid last night and I also love you quite a lot so you haven’t got a lot to worry about.”

Zayn grins and places a kiss into the centre of Liam’s chest. “You sly dog, Styles. Love the get-up by the way. And your neck.” He pulls himself away from Liam and plonks down on the sofa, grabbing Liam’s bowl of cereal and spooning some into his mouth. “So where did you go?”

“No details without me, you bitches!” snaps Niall’s voice as he trudges slowly to the bathroom. Harry settles down on the sofa and waits for Niall to get back. Liam goes and sits next to Zayn and lets his boyfriend spoon-feed him cereal adorably until Niall pulls Danielle out of his room and drags her into the living room, where they curl up together on the loveseat. 

“So where did he take you? What did you eat? Did you fuck in the backseat of his Jaguar?” Niall asks with a yawn. 

“He drives an Audi R8, actually, and no we didn’t fuck in the backseat of his car.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “But we did fuck up against his front door.”

Liam chokes on a mouthful of Coco Pops and Zayn has to thump him gently on the back while Niall laughs so hard he nearly throws Danielle onto the floor. 

“Wow, that’s some romantic first date shit right there,” says Zayn with a killer grin, his hand rubbing soothingly up Liam’s back.

“Tell me about it. That wasn’t even the most amazing part. He took me out to this private country restaurant, you know those expensive looking types where you get four bites of food for sixty odd quid?”

“Oh fucking Christ, he isn’t in to all that pretentious bull, is he? I knew he had to be flawed in some way!” says Niall, rocking Danielle back and forth by way of apology.

“Not even close, mate. He literally just took me there for the scenery and he had a Nando’s specially ordered for us there. I’m talking Peri-Peri chicken, chips, garlic bread, corn on the cob, everything.”

Niall stares at him blankly for a few moments then turns to Danielle. “Nah sorry baby, it’s been a good eighteen months but I’m leaving you for Louis Tomlinson.”

Danielle simply smacks him round the back of the head and stalks into the bathroom in response. Niall looks torn between following Danielle and hearing more of the story so Harry continues. 

“Anyway, after the meal we went back to his car and we kissed. And we went back to his and got each other off once in his front hallway and again in his bed then we fell asleep and this morning he asked me on another date and he’s coming over tomorrow night for Boy’s Night with pizza and beer because he says he really wants to get to know my friends and he has a fucking cat called KitKat because it had a lucky break!” He finishes on a whine and his three best friends just stare at him.

“So basically you’re telling us that the man you’ve been wanking over since you knew what wanking was is in fact your perfect man and not only wants to impress you but impress your friends as well?” Liam says slowly.

“Yes.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Leeyum, what do you mean what’s the problem?!” Harry cries. “He is Louis Tomlinson, he could have anyone in the world yet he wants me. Do you know how much pressure that puts on me?”

Three different pillows come flying at his head. “Never in my life have I heard more of a non-problem and I’ve been friends with you since we were twelve,” snaps Zayn. 

“We haven’t even had that talk though. We’ve been out _once_. And, like, if we do become something…”

“Then you’ll deal with it when the time comes, Jesus Christ, Harry. Don’t worry about that yet, you’re going to be fine, whatever happens.”

Harry nods. “It’s just… shit like this doesn’t happen to people like me. Like every gay man and probably a few straight men want in his pants and now I have the chance to be in his pants and I think…” He pauses. “I think he really likes me. And it’s so weird because I always fancied him but he’s actually perfect. Did I mention he rescued a cat and called it KitKat?”

“Yes, you did,” says Zayn with another eye roll. They hear Danielle leave the bathroom and she pads back into Niall’s room with her hair in a top knot and a towel and Niall licks his lips as he watches her. He then tips a fake hat and follows her back into his bedroom and Zayn stands up and walks into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

“Is he… is he okay?” asks Harry confusedly. 

Liam sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “I think he has some weird jealously thing going on, God knows why. I think Louis is gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, but he doesn’t hold a candle to Zayn for me, sorry.”

Harry grins despite himself. “I know, mate, I know. I think Zayn knows that too but he’s never been one for sharing. He’ll get over it, won’t he?”

Liam snorts. “I bloody hope so.” He looks down at his hands. “He, er, he hasn’t quite been the same since that night. He won’t let me touch him, really, when we’re alone I mean. I think that prick really got to him.”

Harry grimaces. “Fucker, absolute fucker. I wish I’d punched him harder.” He looks at Liam pleadingly. “Can you fix it? Or not fix it, but make it better, you know what I mean.”

“I’m doing everything in my power to. I love him so fucking much; the idea that that arsehole got into his head and is making him upset and angry about nothing is just…”

He breaks off as he hears the bathroom door unlock and Zayn walks back into their bedroom with a towel around his waist and slams the door again. Liam looks pained but stands up.

“No time like the present, eh? What are you doing today, anyway Haz?”

“Think I’m going to Ed’s to work on some band stuff. I’ll be back tonight though,” Harry says, standing up and heading back to his own bedroom. “Laters, Li, have a good day.” He winks and Liam flushes and smiles before nodding and going into his own bedroom.

*

Liam isn’t sure there is a more beautiful sight ever than the way Zayn looks when he’s riding his cock.

Sunday is typically a day when Harry catches up on work while Zayn and Liam and Niall and Danielle stay holed up in their room doing coupley things. Liam decided yesterday, however, that he wanted to spend the entire weekend holed up in their room with a naked Zayn.

It took a bit of coaxing and a lot of kissing and gentle touches to get Zayn in the mood to finally do this. This is been the longest they’ve gone in years without having sex and although Zayn always bottoms, it’s rare he’ll ask for control and ride Liam like this.

“Yeah, Liam, yeah, uh, uh, uh,” garbles Zayn as Liam fucks up harder into him. He has his hands braced tightly on Liam’s shoulders and Liam runs his hands up and down up Zayn’s chest, kissing the lips that are a copy of his own tattooed there over and over.

“So fucking beautiful like this, baby,” Liam pants, reaching down to stroke Zayn in between their bodies. “You’re so perfect, you know that, so fucking gorgeous, so lovely for me.”

Zayn cries out and throws his head back as he comes all over their chests and Liam fucks him through it before he’s coming himself, filling Zayn deep. He pulls out and kisses all over Zayn’s skin but Zayn can’t quite meet his eyes as he rolls over to snuggle into Liam’s chest, ignoring the mess of cum on his torso.

“Baby, what is wrong? You’ve been off all weekend,” Liam says, moving down to cup Zayn’s cheek.

“Can you…” Zayn starts but then his eyes fill with tears and he pauses for a long time and Liam’s heart shatters. “Can you just tell me you love me?” he whispers desperately.

“Of course I love you, darling, why on earth would you think otherwise?” Liam says frantically, stroking Zayn’s cheek. “You’re my everything, my favourite person in the whole world, my soulmate, whatever you want to call it, Zayn, I love you.”

Zayn is properly crying now, tears streaming down his face at an alarming rate. Liam sits himself up and pulls Zayn into his arms and lets him cry, kissing the top of his head over and over and stroking his cheek to wipe away the tears.

When Zayn’s cried it out, Liam rolls them over so Zayn is flat on his back and he’s looming over him. “Baby, you need to tell me what I’ve done to make you doubt even for a second that I love you more than life itself, okay?”

Zayn shakes his head but at least he’s looking Liam in the eye now. “I… I just… You’ll think it’s silly, Liam.”

“If it’s a problem for you then it isn’t silly. Tell me, darling, and we’ll solve it. This is the first time you’ve let me touch you in ages and I want to help because I miss you and…”

“Would you love me more if I was white?” Zayn blurts then covers his face with his hands, like he can’t believe he said it.

Liam’s mouth practically hits the floor. “Are you fucking serious?! Zayn, why on earth would you ever think that?”

Zayn chokes on a sob. “Because me being dark causes us so many problems, Li! Harry always ends up punching someone for me and he shouldn’t have to and it’s just not fair.” He coughs and then continues. “And you and Harry are always going on about how fit Louis Tomlinson is and we literally could not look more different so now if he’s in our lives I just thought…” He stops talking to cover his face with his hands and more tears spill out.

Liam grabs both Zayn’s hands and pins them above his head. “Zayn Jawaad Malik, you listen to me. I wouldn’t change anything about you, ever ever ever because to me, you are perfect. I could never in a million years fancy anyone more than I fancy you because I fucking love you, so fucking much and I would happily punch a thousand, hell, I’d punch a whole army of people if any of them said a bad word about you. I don’t give a shit what your skin colour is because it’s so immaterial, but fuck, you’re actually the hottest person I’ve ever seen, especially when I get to see you spread out of our bed knowing that I’m the only one who gets to see you like that. You’re so beautiful and it’s such a privilege to call you mine and to be yours in return.”

Liam wipes tears from his own eyes. “And the Louis Tomlinson thing - I’m not going to lie and say I don’t find him attractive but I have you and you’re worth everything to me, whereas him I could live without. I don’t want him, I want you. It is literally just a silly celebrity crush. Plus I don’t know if you’d noticed but he might have a little thing with Harry going on.”

Zayn gives out a wet chuckle and nods, wiping the last of his tears with the back of his hand. Liam grins back and ducks down, capturing Zayn’s lips in a passionate kiss which Zayn happily returns, pulling Liam impossibly closer. 

“I *hiccup* love you too, Liam,” Zayn finally gets out, hiccupping again a few seconds later. “I don’t deserve you, you know.”

“Nonsense, babe, we deserve each other perfectly. Yin and yang, remember?” He thumbs gently over the tattoo on Zayn’s wrist and Zayn nods again, tilting his head so Liam will kiss him again. Liam obliges and licks into his mouth before breaking the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses across all of Zayn’s body. 

“You’re so perfect, do you know that? Do you know how much your body still drives me crazy after nearly four years together?” He takes Zayn’s nipple in his mouth and sucks hard, causing Zayn’s back to arch. 

“And you make me so happy, you have no idea.” He pinches the other nipple hard and begins trailing kisses towards the tattoos on his hips. “When I’m with you, I feel like nothing else matters because if you’re happy then I’m happy. And I like to think I make you happy.”

“So happy, Li,” Zayn pants out, his dick slowly fattening up as Liam takes his balls in his hand and massages them gently. “I love you so much, please know that.”

Liam moves his hand up to wrap around Zayn’s dick but moves the rest of his body up so he can hover over Zayn again, kissing him firmly as he pumps him steadily. Zayn places both hands on Liam’s face and kisses him again and again until he’s coming with a cry for the second time over Liam’s fist.

“You’re so special, Zayn,” Liam mumbles against his lips. “I know that things have been hard over the past few years for us both but I don’t care about anything as long as I have you, okay?”

Zayn nods and lets his head fall back against the pillows, pulling Liam down so his head is cushioned on Zayn’s chest. They lie there idly for a while, absent-mindedly playing with each other’s fingers when Harry bangs on their door.

“Half an hour ‘til Louis gets here, you animals! Stop shagging and go shower!” 

Zayn flips him off while calling out “yes, your highness!” and Liam laughs and scoops Zayn up in his arms bridal style and walks them both naked across the hallway to the bathroom, causing Niall to yelp and drop his bag of crisps while dramatically crying out “My poor virgin eyes!”

Liam sets Zayn down and steps into the shower, switching it on to high like Zayn likes it while Zayn stands and pisses in the toilet. As he flushes and steps into the shower Liam immediately wraps him in his arms again and they kiss for a long time, until Liam pulls back and says “can I wash your hair for you, love?”

Zayn nods and leans into the touch as Liam’s fingers work into his scalp. Liam then gently washes the suds away and then lets Zayn wash his own hair, which doesn’t take nearly as long. They soap each other down, scraping the last of the dried cum from each other’s abs before stepping out and drying each other down. Liam savours moments like this because they’ve been so few and far between recently and he’s _finally_ getting his boy back.

Back in their bedroom they dress quickly and as Zayn pulls his favourite top of Liam’s over his head Liam can’t help but push him fiercely against the wardrobe and suck a dark bruise into his neck. Zayn keens and grips Liam’s forearms tightly as Liam bites down forcefully.

“Beautiful,” he says as he leans back to admire his handiwork. His thumb runs idly over the tattoo on Zayn’s right bicep of a girl that Zayn had gotten when he was still eager to convince his family that he was straight. It hadn’t been a good time for either boy and they’d nearly ended completely but then Zayn made the choice that Liam is eternally grateful for.

Zayn catches him looking down and gently nuzzles his hand, a deep look of regret etching his chiselled features. 

Liam kisses the look from his face then laces their fingers together, murmuring “come on, let’s go enjoy Boy’s Night.”

Zayn places one last kiss on his lips and lets Liam lead him out the bedroom into the living room where Harry and Niall are arguing over whether to take the poster of Louis down or not.

“He’s already seen it, it’ll look stupid if you take it down, you paranoid bastard,” Niall says from where he’s splayed out on the couch with a bag of microwave popcorn. 

Harry’s pacing back and forth like a nervous puppy, chewing on his thumbnail. “Is it weird though if you’re hanging out in a room with a poster of yourself up?” He pauses. “I’m going to take it down.”

There’s a knock on the front door then and Harry freezes. Zayn throws a pillow at him and goes to answer the door while Harry quickly hops off the sofa and runs a hand through his hair. The door opens and Louis is stood there holding five pizzas precariously in one hand and a four pack of Budweiser in the other.

“Hiya Louis, come on in mate!” Zayn says with almost too much enthusiasm. Louis smiles shyly and steps inside, toeing off his shoes and handing the pizza boxes to an enthusiastic Niall.

“Hi lads, thanks for having me! I wasn’t sure what kind of pizza you’d all want so I got one plain cheese, one meat feast, one veggie special, one Hawaiian and one chicken, I think?”

Liam isn’t sure who’s looking at Louis more like he hung the moon , Niall or Harry. He lifts his arm up to accommodate Zayn, who’s hurried back to Liam’s side and pulls him close.

The evening goes smoothly. Louis’ only allowed three pieces of pizza because of his training so he gives the rest of his Hawaiian to Niall, who mutters something under his breath about leaving Danielle once again. 

Normally any coupley behaviour at Boy’s Night is shouted down but Louis is practically sat in Harry’s lap for the entire night so Liam lets Zayn sit between his legs on the floor and happily feeds him pieces of pizza in between kisses. Niall’s too busy eating to even comment and they all fall into a comfortable silence as Fast and Furious plays on in the background.

Louis, they all have to admit, is actually really funny and fits nicely into their little group. Liam finds himself not even thinking that it’s his idol over there and thinks more about how he’s an excellent guy for Harry. He knows it’s really only the third time they’ve met and usually he’s not the most observant of people but he’s already noticed some of their lingering touches and the way Harry leans forward to whisper softly in Louis’ ear and he has to admit they look great together.

“They look good together, don’t you think?” whispers Zayn a few seconds later, resting his head on Liam’s shoulder. “I almost feel bad for being jealous.”

Liam snorts and links their fingers. “They don’t look as good together as us, I can guarantee.” He kisses Zayn’s hand. “Nobody looks as good as you.”

Zayn groans softly but he can’t stop his smile. “You’re a giant sap, you know that, Liam James.”

“That I am, but I think I have a right to be when I’m dating the most beautiful man in the whole world.”

“Christ, Liam, I’m going to get cavities.”

Liam carries on with a smirk. “The most beautiful man in the world who is going to be at his most beautiful tonight when I strip him down and take him again and again and again until he can’t remember anything but me and what it’s like to feel me inside of him for _weeks_.”

Zayn’s breathing gets heavier. “Yeah? Again and again and again?”

Liam nods, dipping down to whisper in Zayn’s ear. “Until you physically can’t come anymore seems fair, don’t you think? Do you think that’s what it’ll take for you to understand how beautiful you are and how much you deserve?”

Zayn swallows thickly. “I mean, it might help…”

Liam jumps to his feet pulling Zayn with him. “Night boys, sleep well!” he shouts as he pushes Zayn in the direction of their bedroom, Zayn giving everyone a fleeting wave before he’s practically diving to open the door.

The second it’s locked behind them Liam’s lips are on Zayn’s, his hands touching him wherever he can reach. He reaches down and squeezes his arse and Zayn makes a needy sound in the back of his throat and tries to push himself closer.

They fall onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and Liam pulls off his own t-shirt before gently sliding his hand down the front of Zayn’s trackies. He gently traces the length of Zayn’s semi with his fingers and Zayn tries to push forward but Liam shakes his head and pulls his hand away, instead pulling off Zayn’s top.

Deep purple bruises are sucked into Zayn’s chest and hips and he whines above Liam as Liam pulls the drawstring of his boxers undone with his teeth.

“Liam, babe, _please_!” 

“What do you need, babe?” Liam says lowly, his hands sliding Zayn’s trackies to the floor.

“Can I suck you?”

“Tonight’s about you, not me,” Liam says unsurely but Zayn shakes his head and sits up.

“Please baby, wanna make you feel as good as you make me feel,” Zayn whines, hand stroking Liam’s cheek.

“Now who’s the sap?” says Liam jokingly. Zayn rolls his eyes fondly and presses his hand on Liam’s bare chest to get him to lie back, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down in one smooth movement. He takes Liam’s semi in his mouth and tongues around it and Liam bucks up as the wet heat surrounding his cock gets more intense.

Zayn sucks cock like it’s an art form, Liam thinks. He takes Liam down as far as he can and runs his tongue along the vein and doesn’t complain when Liam pushes him down gently so his nose is nestled in Liam’s thick pubes. He gags a little and there are tears in his eyes but he works at Liam like it’s his sole purpose in life and as their eyes meet Liam is overwhelmed by how much he loves his boy.

Zayn gags again and Liam releases his hand from the back of Zayn’s hair, pulling him off gently and coaxing him up so they’re lying chest to chest, kissing each other deeply. Liam trails a hand down so his fingers are ghosting over Zayn’s crack, then he presses a gentle thumb against his hole making him squirm exquisitely.

Liam flips them over so he’s hovering over Zayn, kissing him deeply as their erections knock together. He fumbles under their pillows for the lube and sits up so he’s straddling Zayn properly.

“Can you roll onto your stomach for me, babe?” Liam instructs as he uncaps the lube and drizzles some carefully over two of his fingers. Zayn obeys and lets Liam open him up slowly and carefully like he’s done hundreds of times before and he eventually slides in, splitting Zayn open and making him cry out beautifully. 

He kisses the fern tattoo on the back of his neck then manoeuvres his boyfriend gently so his arse is raised more so he can hit his prostate dead on again and again with each thrust, knowing that he can make Zayn come untouched from this position. He does a few minutes later, shooting all over the already soiled bed sheets, the noises he makes being what send Liam over the edge himself.

As Zayn collapses back onto his belly into his own wet patch, Liam falls next to him onto his side. After he gets his breath back he runs his hand down Zayn’s back again, his hand trailing back to his fucked open hole. He slides two fingers back inside and Zayn moans, torn between fucking back and fighting him off because he’s too oversensitive. 

Liam fucks his fingers in and out, relishing the wet sounds that his own cum is making as he drags his fingers up and down, crooking them every now and then to hit Zayn’s prostate.

“Gonna make you come again,” he whispers and Zayn groans and shakes his head weakly.

“Can’t, Liam, too tired!”

“Try for me baby, we’ve done it before,” he coos, scissoring his fingers gently. He slips another finger in and all the air leaves Zayn’s lungs in a giant exhale as he comes with one final push to his prostate.

“No more, no more, no more,” he whimpers into his arms and Liam pulls his fingers out, wiping them on the pillowcase. He rolls Zayn out of the wet patch and into his side and they curl up together and drift into a happy sleep, Zayn pressing light kisses into Liam’s ribcage as they do so.

*

Harry and Louis lie in Harry’s tiny bed (it’s not actually tiny but it’s definitely not built for two grown boys) giggling like hell at the sounds from the next room. Half an hour into it when the sound of the headboard hitting the wall had gotten too much and Niall had grabbed a pizza box and snapped that he was going to Danielle’s they could “at least all be shaggin’” and Harry had wasted no time in snapping off the TV and dragging Louis into his room to kiss him stupid.

It seems the noises from next door have stopped for the time being, so Harry takes the time to kiss Louis slowly and deeply, hands holding on the back of his next firmly as Louis’ hands stroke up and down his hips.

As they break apart they share a smile and Louis rests his head on Harry’s shoulder. “So I’m going to Barcelona on Wednesday.”

Harry runs his fingers through Louis’ feathery fringe. “So you said.”

“And I was wondering,” Louis continues, “if after I got back I could take you out again. And again and again and maybe start bringing you to events as my plus one and calling you my boyfriend, that kinda thing.”

Harry’s hand stills. “Are you… are you serious?” he squeaks.

Louis rolls over and props himself up on his elbows. “Yes, Harry. Why wouldn’t I be serious?” He rolls his eyes. “Do I have to take you out on another painfully cheesy, overly romantic date and voice this shit out loud to you again? Harold Styles, I want to be your boyfriend.”

“You know my name isn’t actually Harold.”

“Seriously? That’s what you pick up on in that? Just say yes, you infuriating bastard.”

Harry still doesn’t say anything and closes his eyes. Louis slaps him lightly on the cheek and he opens his eyes, shocked.

“Harold, what are you doing?”

“I’m processing this moment. I’ve wanted this since I was about fifteen, let me process _Lewis_.

“Fuck me, I’m in a relationship with a crazy person,” Louis says with an eye roll but even with his eyes shut Harry can hear the smile.

“Yes, yes you are. Wow. Louis Tomlinson is my boyfriend.”

Harry takes this opportunity to flip them over so he’s hovering over Louis. Louis looks so small under him and he’s smiling up at Harry like he’s the happiest person in the world.

“I’m glad we went to that piece of shit bar, you know. Even with what happened to Zayn, I think this makes up for it.”

Louis tugs him down for a kiss, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck tightly as Harry’s tongue explores every corner of Louis’ mouth. 

They stay up half the night talking after that, Harry’s head cushioned gently on Louis’ soft chest. Harry tells Louis about how his sister is his rock and how he’s a mummy’s boy and a cat lover and how he misses his home a lot but going back is difficult because he’s not exactly loved or wanted there anymore, even though his family would love him back, same with Niall’s. Louis looks confused as to why but Harry reassures him that he’ll tell him soon, when the time is right. He tells him how excited he is to go for a two week holiday with them in August though and how he’s glad that they’re able to stay in their flat for another year so they can finish uni together.

Louis tells Harry about growing up with too many siblings and how his sister Lottie is probably his best friend in the world and he misses her more than anything. He talks about knowing he wasn’t any good at school and sneaking out constantly to play football. In year eleven his school team played a team in Sheffield and scouts from Doncaster Rovers caught wind of him and signed him to their junior team. He tells Harry about realising he was gay soon after and spending hours crying into his mother’s arms, thinking he wouldn’t be accepted into any future teams. He thinks that that was possibly his driving force into working so hard and becoming such a star player.

He tells him about his first boyfriend, Kyle, a beautiful model with dark skin and dark eyes and a dark temper who wanted to keep Louis his dirty little secret. No such luck when they were outed at a showbiz party. Kyle didn’t benefit from the coming-out nearly as much as Louis did, though, and Louis was flung into the spotlight but it’s gone alright, he thinks. Since he came out, he tells Harry, there has been over a fifty percent increase in members of LGBT organisations all over the country.

Eventually the pair rolls over so they’re lying face to face, Harry’s long arm draped over Louis’ middle. 

“You’re pretty amazing, you know that? Like I’ve always thought you were damn gorgeous but you’re also so cool,” Harry blurts out and then blushes, pulling his hand off Louis’ waist to hide his face with it.

Louis chuckles and pulls his arm back, leaning up to kiss Harry. “You’re not so bad yourself, boyfriend.”

Harry smiles into the kiss despite his heated cheeks. “God, I’m sorry I’m so lame, I really am. I’ll try and dial it down, I promise, especially if you need me to go to events with you and…”

“Harry, stop talking and fucking kiss me, you twat.”

He obliges, because kissing Louis is definitely his favourite thing to do ever ever already and he now has a boyfriend (!!!!) who also happens to be the most famous footballer in the country. Holy shit.

The next morning, Harry wakes up to Louis’ body completely curled up into his in his single bed and holy fuck, if he isn’t going to have a heart attack every time he wakes up and sees Louis asleep next to him.

He tries to sneak out to the bathroom sneakily but he ends up jostling Louis awake as he stands up and stretches, pulling some boxers on.

“You know what, we’re going to have to start going to mine if this is going to happen on the regular,” Louis yawns. “Your tiny bed is terrible for my very important back.”

Harry bends down and kisses Louis’ forehead gently. “Sorry. There was only one double bed in the flat and it was a no-brainer who that went to.”

“Unacceptable. It’s also unacceptable that you’re no longer naked.”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles again. “I need to pee, I’ll be back in thirty seconds.”

“I’m counting, Styles!” Louis chirps, rolling over and closing his eyes again.

Harry practically skips to and from the bathroom, rinsing his mouth with mouthwash and running a quick hand through his unruly morning hair as he pisses. He enthusiastically blows Louis when he returns to his room and then kisses him until Louis pushes him off to pee himself. 

It already feels very domestic and Harry fucking loves it.

True to his word, Louis does let Harry kiss him until Barcelona. He takes Harry out Monday night to a little bar in Manchester then takes him home and they frott together drunkenly on Louis’ massive bed. On Tuesday Louis lets Harry cook him a fry up in the nude, then they watch stupid films all day and in the evening they sixty-nine and kiss until they fall asleep. On Wednesday, Louis shoos Harry out at seven am with a long kiss and the promise that he’ll text him the minute he lands.

It’s all Harry’s ever wanted from a relationship and more. He’s only ever had flings and a couple of boyfriends that lasted a few months but nothing felt like it was this significant so early on. He doesn’t want to rush it but he already knows that not speaking to Louis for a few hours is going to be difficult, let alone having him in fucking Barcelona for three days.

He may or may not be in too deep already.

*

Louis’ sat on a lovely plane on his way to lovely Barcelona when he gets his first lecture.

“Tomlinson!” he hears Paul’s Irish brogue from somewhere behind him. “Care to explain this to me?”

A huge hand slaps a copy of The Sun in front of him. Louis gulps audibly as his eyes scan over the pages. There are two clear pictures of him and Harry, one of them in the bar and one of them walking home. In the first one they’re sitting on bar stools at a tall corner table, Harry’s large hand cupping Louis’ cheek as he leans over to press their lips together. The second is of them leaving the bar, Louis’ hand in the back pocket of Harry’s tight skinnies. 

Both pictures look painfully intimate and Louis really has no choice but to come clean. “Um, yeah. Hi Paul. I have a boyfriend now.”

“I can see that,” Paul says with an eye roll to rival Zayn’s. “Is it serious?”

Louis balks, unsure of what to say. It’s only been a week, less than even, but he’s pretty sure about Harry already.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping his uncertainty doesn’t come across.

“Well, okay. Same drill as usual then. Bring him down the club on Monday, we’ll get the documents signed and sorted. Sorry to have to do that to you but you know how it is.”

He claps a giant hand on Louis’ shoulder and Louis nods, grateful for Paul once again. Paul had been brilliant when he’d signed Louis, promising to sort out any funny business of that sort and to tell him immediately if he ever felt threatened.

“My sister and her girlfriend are the best couple I know. Can’t ever get me head round why people can’t just let people love,” he’d told Louis in his office on the day he’d signed him for the team. It was just after most of the big press had died down so Louis was eternally grateful for support from all sides.

He hadn’t really experienced it all that much, because the world knew he was one of the best footballers in Britain and the supporters tended to see the goals he scored rather than the company he kept as what was important.

Sure, he’d had it once or twice, like when they’d played Man City and their vile defender has hissed a homophobic slur his way during a tackle, but his best mate on the team, Stan, had immediately pulled him into a headlock and all hell had broken loose. 

Stan sidles over to him now, flopping into the empty seat that Paul had left. 

“So, got yourself a new man then?”

Louis can’t bite back the grin and launches into a detailed description of meeting Harry (careful to whisper about being in the bar on his own when he knew that drinking away his feelings on what would have been his and Kyle’s one year was a mistake) and about their date and about how he’s already met and liked all of Harry’s friends.

“Wow, mate. And it’s been less than a week since your first date?” Stan says baffled.

“Tell me about it. He’s pretty fucking perfect.” He twirls his phone around in his fingers, itching to text Harry even though he knows he needs to keep his phone on Airplane Mode.

“You are so gone. I don’t think you were even like this with Kyle at any point.”

“Kyle was a wanker. Harry’s so different in such a good way, I dunno…” Louis bites his bottom lip as he trails off and Stan punches him playfully in the arm. 

“So fucking gay mate,” he says with a laugh. Louis does a little hip wiggle in his seat and the pair laugh until the overhead announcer tells them that they’re landing soon. 

The second that Louis’ locked safely in his hotel room he pulls his phone charger out his bag and dials Harry.

“Lou!” Harry chirps enthusiastically on the third ring. Louis grins to himself as he hears Niall wolf-whistle and Zayn call out “oh, Louis, it’s been sooooo long!” in his trademark sarcastic drawl.

Harry moans a “piss off!” then Louis hears his bedroom door shut and the lock click before Harry’s mumbling a “hi Lou, sorry about my WANKER FRIENDS!” 

“Hey babe. I miss you. This isn’t fair, it’s been a week. What are you doing to me?”

A small squeak comes from Harry’s end and Louis can definitely picture his blush and the way he’s almost definitely running his hand through his hair. 

“Same, Louis,” he says quietly, the hint of a smile in his voice. “How’s Barcelona?”

“Warm,” Louis says. “Haven’t really seen much yet, we’re not allowed out tonight because we’ve got training at seven tomorrow morning so I figured I’d get an early night, maybe watch some Netflix. How are things without me?”

“Cold.”

“Harry, it’s July, how on earth are you cold?”

“Because you’re not there to spoon me.”

“You have terrible lines, Styles. You’ve gone a good twenty years without me spooning you, three days will be nothing.”

He clears his throat. “There is, er, there is something I do need to talk to you about, actually.”

“Yeah?” says Harry questioningly.

“I, er, I don’t know if you saw but we’re kind of on the front page of The Sun.”

Harry shrieks loudly and Louis grips the phone. “Harry?”

“Hang on, Lou, I’m just going on their website.” Louis hears Harry’s laptop keys clicking then he hears him gasp. “Shit, we are, aren’t we?”

“Is that okay?” Louis says quickly, chewing his thumbnail nervously.

“Yeah, I mean, yeah I…” Harry stops and Louis can just picture him scrunching up his nose. “I didn’t think that would ever be me. But I’m with you and that’s what I want.”

“You sure? It’s not too late to bow out now, babe…” This is the first time Louis has questioned their relationship and now he’s already thinking that maybe it’s too good to be true. 

“No, no, _no._ I mean, I don’t want to bow out now. I’m sure,” Harry says firmly.

Louis sighs in relief. “Good, because I need you to come into the club with me on Monday and sign some privacy contracts.”

Harry gulps. “I’m going to be inside the Manchester United grounds?!” 

Louis allows himself a grin because _of course_ that’s what Harry would pick up on here. 

“Yeah, babe, you are. In a meeting with me and one Mr. Paul Higgins, no less.”

“LOUIS, ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” 

Louis is outright laughing now. “Yes, my little fangirl. You, your footballer boyfriend and the manager of our team.”

“I’m not…” Harry is floundering. “What do I wear?!”

“Jesus, Harold, do you want to be in a relationship with me or my manager?!”

“You, definitely you,” Harry says without missing a beat. “But it’s like, you’re my childhood crush and he’s my hero. He completely changed the club and he’s like, he’s just…”

“I know babe, I know. He’s also the nicest man you’ll ever meet.” He pauses. “So you’re okay with signing relationship contracts then? You okay with being in this for the long run?”

“Yes, Louis, you know I am. Man, Liam is going to flip…”

“Christ, Harold, will you focus for five seconds?! This means you won’t be able to talk to journalists unless the club approve, you won’t be able to walk to the shops without possibly getting papped, they might follow you to uni, I don’t know…”

“Louis!” Harry cuts him off. “I’m sure I’ll get used to it. I’m more worried about tripping over in public and making an arse of myself than actually getting papped.” He laughs and Louis really wants to hug him.

“You’re so special, Harry,” he says fondly before he can stop himself. Harry makes a pleased noise.

“I’m glad you think so. I miss you.” 

“Miss you too. I think I’m going to turn in, I hate flying. Hope you’re all okay over there without me.”

“The rest are but I’m not. I’ll speak to you tomorrow?” Harry says hopefully. Louis chuckles.

“Of course, babe. Laters!”

“Bye Lou!”

Louis plugs his phone into the charger and switches it onto Do Not Disturb mode before lying back in the plush pillows and letting his eyes close, relief flooding through him. It wasn’t like he was nervous about signing the contracts or even that he was nervous about Harry, it was that he was nervous that Harry hadn’t fully grasped what it would take to date him and that a by-product would be that he would be papped, as well as the fact that he would have to sign a load of papers.

He allows his hand to push past the elastic waistband of his trackies and he palms himself through his boxers, thinking of Harry’s smooth voice and large hands and his frankly sinful mouth. 

His wank is quick and dirty and he comes with Harry’s name on his lips. He has a quick shower and cleans his teeth and falls back on the crisp hotel sheets. And if he wakes up a couple of times in the middle of the night to instinctively try and pull Harry closer, nobody has to know.

*

It’s Monday and Harry is sweating with nerves.

They’re leaving in twenty minutes and he’s honestly more nervous than he was before their first date because this is _Paul Higgins_ we’re talking about. Paul Higgins who led Manchester United to victory in so many Premier Leagues that Harry can even remember going to some with his real dad and that was a long time ago.

“You don’t need to dress up, you stupid boy,” Louis says from where he’s lying sprawled on Harry’s bed. He’s wearing a grey hoodie and maroon chinos and has a beanie on top of his head so only his fringe is poking out and he still looks so fucking good that Harry feels like a loser.

“Easy for you to say! I look like a baby giraffe and I dress like an idiot and…” He cuts himself off with a childlike whine and looks at Louis pleadingly. Louis raises an eyebrow but shuffles off the bed and steps towards the wardrobe. He pulls out a pair of skinny jeans and a plain white t-shirt and thrusts them at Harry.

“Here you go, my baby giraffe Italian model. It’s not like he isn’t going to like you.”

“But what if he…” Harry chokes on the last word as Louis slams their lips together and he promptly shuts up. 

Louis pulls away slightly and leans over to whisper in Harry’s ear. “If you get dressed now and hurry the fuck up, I’ll let you fuck me later.”

Harry’s breath hitches. They haven’t done that yet.

“You sure?” he says, breathing heavily. 

Louis grins and flops back down on Harry’s bed. “Very sure. Been thinking a lot about having that pretty cock of yours in me. We’ll have our meeting then I want you to fuck me on my bed so we can be as loud as we want as I ride your brains out.” He leans back looking very smug. “But only if you get dressed in the next thirty seconds.”

Harry has never moved faster in his life and Louis smirks for pretty much the entire drive to the training ground. 

They drive around to the player’s entrance at the back and Louis signs Harry in, telling the guard to put Harry Styles as a permanent name on the list of people allowed in this way. Harry’s eyes nearly burst out of his head and Louis kisses his cheek happily. 

When they park up, Louis opens Harry’s door for him like their first date and links their fingers proudly, which helps Harry’s nerves a little bit.

“Relax,” instructs Louis, bringing Harry’s hand up to his mouth and kissing it. “Everyone here knows, any funny business and Paul will put them in their place, they know that.”

Harry nods and squeezes Louis’ hand tighter. Louis swipes a card from his wallet through the door entrance and leads Harry down a long corridor through some gigantic double doors and into a lift. The lift takes them up to the second floor and then they walk down a second corridor to the office at the end. 

Louis knocks gently and Harry takes a deep breath, which makes Louis chuckle. A thick Irish accent booms at them to come in so Louis twists the doorknob and allows the door to creak open before dragging Harry inside.

“Ah, Louis, my lad!” roars Paul from over a desk. He’s wearing a black polo shirt and jeans, which immediately makes Harry feel more comfortable because he looks so intimidating in his usual grey suit when shouting and storming up and down the pitch on game day. “And you must be his boy!”

He extends a giant hand that Harry takes eagerly, looking up at his hero in awe. “H-hi, Mr. Higgins.”

“Please, call me Paul! If you’re a friend of Louis then you’re a friend of mine!”

Harry beams and settles into the chair that Paul offers them. Paul himself sits back down and rummages in one of his drawers for some papers.

“Sorry to have to ask this of you, Harry m’lad , but it’s just procedure. Nothing against you or anythin’, I’m sure Boobear here has better taste than to pick a lad that would rat him out but we have to.”

Harry can’t help his smirk. “Boobear?”

Louis visibly pales. “I cannot believe I ever let you meet my mum. Why, Paul, why?!” he whines. 

Paul lets out a laugh that may actually rattle the pictures on the walls. “Top lady, his mum. Lucky for our Boobear over there (Louis groans and buries his face into his hands) I was the only one who heard it but it’s not something I’ve forgotten.” He shuffles some papers and hands Harry a pen.

“Now, sorry to rush you boys but I’ve got a meeting in twenty so I could do with getting this done and dusted. Give these a quick read but they’re pretty standard – no interviews unless they’ve been set up by a representative of the club. Please don’t speak to journalists and don’t answer the questions the paps throw at you. Don’t push or hit paps, either. We had an incident last year where our very own Vice-captain George’s fiancée jabbed a pap in the eye with a false nail.” He shudders. 

Harry flicks through the papers in front of him, eyes scanning over the words. It is pretty standard, really, nothing he didn’t already expect. “Um, what do I do if paps follow me to, like, uni and stuff?”

“You should be left well enough alone in a few weeks. Paps like new stories but you’ll become old news soon, no offense.”

“None taken,” says Harry with a grin. He scans over the last few pages and points to one final point. “What are these set up photo opportunities?”

“Sometimes we set up photo opportunities for you so you’re less likely to get papped. Some are here at the club and some will be at dinners and the like, but it’s just to try and make it easier for you to go about your daily life.”

Harry nods and uncaps the pen. He scrawls his name across the line at the bottom before printing the date as best he can. He turns to a beaming Louis and they swap a quick, chaste kiss before Harry hands the contract and the pen back over to Paul, who’s pretending to swoon.

“You two are gross. Now get the hell out my office so I can go and be important.”

Louis salutes and jumps up, lacing his fingers with Harry’s. “It’s been a pleasure as always, Pauly. See you in August!”

“Bye, sir, it’s been a pleasure,” says Harry eagerly. Both Paul and Louis roll their eyes and then Louis is tugging Harry down the hallway and back outside to his car.

“C’mon Styles, chop chop, you get to fuck me now,” Louis singsongs as they near the entrance. Harry makes a low noise in the back of his throat and picks up the pace so both boys are practically running towards the exit laughing breathily. 

Harry practically rips the door off its hinges in his haste to get in the car and as he buckles in Louis can’t resist pulling him in for a deep kiss, pressing both his hands firmly into Harry’s cheeks.

“You have no idea what you do to me, Styles,” he murmurs against his lips. Harry blushes but smiles widely and Louis presses one more kiss onto his lips before starting up the car and practically speeding out of there. 

He’s pretty sure he’s broken every single speed limit on the way home but right now he doesn’t care if he’s fined, he just wants to get Harry as naked as possible. He opens his driveway from halfway down the street and surges up the driveway, sending gravel flying. Harry is out the door before he’s even properly parked the car and then they’re stumbling into Louis’ giant foyer attached at the mouth.

“Déjà vu, anyone?” Louis grins as he wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and lets him carry him up the stairs to his bedroom. Harry knocks their foreheads together as he pushes open the door with Louis’ bum and then drops him on the bed, kicking off his shoes and pulling his t-shirt over his head in what seems like milliseconds.

Louis grins as he kicks his own shoes off, licking his lips as he surveys Harry’s naked torso. Harry steps forward into the V of Louis’ legs and slowly slides Louis’ t-shirt up his body as Louis’ hands run themselves over Harry’s abs.

“Can’t wait to see this butterfly covered in cum,” Louis says cheekily with a wink and Harry groans as he pulls the t-shirt off Louis completely. He then grabs Louis under the armpits like he weighs nothing and tosses him further up the bed so he can hover over him and licks into his mouth, his hands gripping tightly at Louis’ hips.

“Harry!” Louis groans out as he moves down and attaches his lips firmly to the juncture between his neck and shoulder, biting harshly before running his tongue over it soothingly. Louis fists his hands in Harry’s curls as he scrapes his teeth down his chest leaving red patches.

Harry’s hands move from Louis’ hips to the zipper on his trousers and he slides them down Louis’ short legs easily, his black boxer briefs following soon after. Louis loves this Harry – he’s so different from how he is normally when they’re in bed, itching to take control.

Louis’ cock is lying hard and heavy on his stomach and Harry moves down to lick the length of the shaft filthily, collecting all Louis’ precum with his tongue and then darting up to kiss Louis so he can taste himself. Louis whines and reaches for the button on Harry’s own jeans and Harry struggles to wriggle them down his mile-long legs.

“Fucking. Italian. Model. Legs,” pants Louis as Harry finally kicks them to the floor. Harry is tenting his boxers obscenely and Louis reaches forward to grab at the waistband and push them down, wanting nothing more than Harry inside of him right now.

Harry reaches over and grabs the lube from where it’s already sitting on Louis’ bedside table and slicks his fingers up. He opens Louis up slowly and carefully because he can see how Louis’ face is screwed up in pain from just the first finger.

“Sorry,” mumbles Louis, his whole body flushed with arousal and embarrassment. “S’been a while, I’ve only been with one boy before you.”

Harry nods understandingly and presses in deeper, watching Louis’ back arch beautifully.

“Pass me down a pillow, Lou. Wanna make this easier for you.” He drops a kiss onto the inside of Louis’ thigh and slips the pillow under his hips, elevating him to a better angle.

Two fingers make their way past Louis’ entrance and then a third and then Harry is crooking his fingers and all the air leaves Louis’ lungs in one huge exhale.

“Hazza, Hazza, please!” Louis cries, his tiny hands reaching down to pull Harry’s fingers out. “Gonna come if you do that again, please fuck me, fuck me now.”

Harry kisses his thigh again and pulls his fingers out, wiping them on the edge of the pillowcase. “Condom?” he asks gently, his fingers still touching Louis’ rim gently.

“’m clean, haven’t been with anyone since Kyle and that was six months ago.”

“Jesus,” Harry hisses, kissing him just above the belly button. “I’m clean too, promise.”

“Then what are you waiting for, Harold?” grumbles Louis. Harry grins and lines himself up with Louis’ hole and starts to push in gently.

“I’m not made of glass,” moans out Louis as Harry slowly pushes deeper. Harry starts to press a bit harder and Louis keens, whining beautifully and tugging Harry further up his body by the curls to kiss him.

Harry pulls almost all the way out then shoves back in suddenly, slamming Louis’ prostate dead on and Louis cries out, hands dropping from Harry’s hair and grabbing at the sheets. 

“Fuck Louis, you feel so fucking good,” moans out Harry as he rocks in and out of Louis at a steady pace, managing to nail his spot nearly every thrust. Louis’ able to lift his hips to match him thrust for thrust but after a few minutes he tightens around Harry and starts thrashing wildly, his own hand moving between them to jerk himself off. 

Harry swats it away and kisses his forehead as he mewls. “Think you can come just from me?”

“I don’t…” Louis’ head rolls back and forth on the pillows. “I don’t know… I haven’t before, ever, fuck _Harry_.”

Harry pulls out and changes the angle so both Louis’ legs are hooked over his shoulders and he drives into Louis deeper, hitting him over and over again until he’s coming untouched with a broken cry all over himself and Harry’s butterfly. Harry pulls out and jerks himself off frantically, his own cum mixing with Louis’ as he shoots his load over Louis’ torso.

Harry can’t help but look down in wonder at the sight in front of him; his beautiful boy covered in his cum looking completely wrecked from what _Harry did to him._

He flops down tiredly next to Louis, pulling a discarded t-shirt off the floor to wipe at his own stomach before doing the same to Louis gently. Louis’ eyes are closed but he’s smiling.

“Well, thank you for that, dear Harold. That was very satisfactory.”

Harry grins and rolls over onto his side so he can look at Louis properly. “Only satisfactory? I guess I’ll have to work a bit harder next time.”

“I said _very_ satisfactory, don’t twist my words.” Louis cracks open one eye and turns his head to look at Harry. “Dammit Styles, I wanted to see that butterfly covered in cum. You life ruiner.”

Harry laughs loudly and presses his lips onto Louis’. “I’m sure another time for that can be suitably arranged.”

*

And so Harry and Louis’ summer together passes in a wonderful whirlwind of togetherness and sex and dates and each other. 

Most of the clothes that Harry wears on a regular basis find themselves in Louis’ bedroom. He gets his own toothbrush and deodorant and shampoo in Louis’ bathroom and his own key to Louis’ house and his own beeper for the gate and KitKat comes and sits on his lap in the evenings now instead of Louis’.

“She’s a filthy cheater, is what she is,” grumbles Louis from where he’s lying tucked into Harry’s side, tickling KitKat’s ears gently from where she’s perched in Harry’s lap. “Although your lap is a damn nice place to sit, Harold. Can’t argue with that.”

Harry tips KitKat off gently to the other side of the sofa and hauls a squawking Louis into her place. Both KitKat and Louis look thoroughly unimpressed until Harry kisses the pout off Louis’ face, bringing him closer into his chest.

“Sorry KitKat,” he mumbles over to the cat, who’s now curling up on one of Louis’ giant expensive pillows looking as pissed off as a cat can look.

“Yeah, fuck off, you stupid cat,” Louis jeers. “This lap is mine. I love this lap.”

“I love _you_ ,” Harry says in response then he freezes. Oh. They haven’t said that yet.

Louis looks frozen for a second too but then he shuffles round so he’s straddling Harry and fists both his hands in Harry’s curls.

“Well, isn’t that a damn shame because I only want you for your body.”

“Lou!” Harry whines and Louis laughs before kissing him hard.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too Styles, you menace.”

Harry still looks mortified. “You don’t have to say it back if you don’t mean it…”

“Harry!” Louis whines in the same tone as Harry and Harry stills and raises an eyebrow. “I love you, you great idiot.”

Harry smiles like a child on Christmas and pulls Louis in for another bruising kiss. Louis laughs into it but grips Harry tightly like he doesn’t want to let go. The kiss quickly turns filthy like it always does with those two and pretty soon, clothes are flying in all directions and KitKat is fleeing from the room as Harry’s phone nearly knocks her on the head.

Louis rides Harry on the couch, sat upright in Harry’s lap as the pair kiss over and over and mumble that they love each other into each other’s mouths. When they’ve finished and Louis has dramatically licked all his cum off Harry’s butterfly (“it’s my favourite hobby, Styles, don’t deny a man his favourite extracurricular”) Harry carries them both upstairs and they have a long bath, Harry’s head cushioned on Louis’ chest.

“I’m not sure who’s more feline, you or KitKat,” Louis muses as he cards his fingers through Harry’s hair, Harry making pleased noises as he does so.

“KitKat wouldn’t get in a bath with you, that’s for sure,” replies Harry softly, practically falling asleep as Louis massages his scalp.

“Nope, do not fall asleep on me, Harry, I will not have you drown,” Louis says, pulling his fingers out and slapping Harry gently on the cheek.

Harry groans and tries to pull Louis closer but that just results in them both sliding down and under the water, both choking and spluttering as they go.

“What did I just say about the drowning, you absolute arse?!” Louis chokes as they both resurface. Harry grins sheepishly in response before pulling a coughing and red-faced Louis back into his arms.

They lie there until the water goes cold then Louis bundles them both up into thick white towels and they drink tea in Louis’ giant bed because he has a kettle and a mini-fridge in his bedroom (“what’s the point of being this rich if you can’t have your favourite luxuries whenever you want them?”).

“Hey Hazza?” asks Louis tentatively, setting his cup down on the bedside table.

Harry follows suit and turns over so he’s facing Louis, lying on their sides. “Yes, Lou?”

“I was wondering about next week, you know, when we go to my mum’s?”

“You still want me to come, right?”

“Of course, of course, darling. I was thinking though, you’re driving back up to Manchester to meet your mum anyway so I was thinking maybe she could come up halfway and stay with us for a few days and then you head off for your hols. Kill two birds with one stone and all that.”

Harry furrows his brows. “Are you sure? I mean, where would they stay?” 

“Oh, I bought my mum a big ol’ house last year, room for her and all the girls and now the new twins too. There’s a guest room though with a king-sized bed so if they don’t mind sharing then they can crash there. I’ve already spoken to Mum about it.”

Harry’s grin spreads across his face and he cups Louis’ cheek delicately. “I mean… wow. Louis, that sounds fantastic! Mum and Gemz would love that.”

“Yeah?” Louis smiles and presses their lips together. “God, Hazza, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Harry says sleepily against Louis’ lips. He rolls over and lies flush against Louis’ chest. “Cuddle me.” 

“Yeah alright, shuffle down, you giant.”

“I think you’ll find the term is Italian model,” Harry corrects with the yawn. 

Louis simply kisses the back of his neck as a response.

*

“Will you stop bouncing? You’re making me nervous.”

Louis swats playfully at Harry from where he’s sat on the giant Tomlinson/Deakin sofa in the giant Tomlinson/Deakin living room as Harry bounces his legs up and down.

“Sorry,” he mumbles shyly. “It’s just, I haven’t seen Mum since Christmas and I just, I feel bad.”

Louis shuffles over and kisses him on the temple. “I know, love, I know. And it’s going to be fine, she’s your mum after all. Unconditional love and all that.”

Harry sighs sadly and starts twiddling his thumbs as Jay carries three mugs into the living room precariously. Louis leaps up to help her and then hands Harry his mug before pressing a quick kiss into his lips, crooking his index finger under his chin and looking him dead in the eyes as if to say “ _we’ll discuss this later_.”

“Thank you, Jay,” Harry says after Louis’ settled back into his side. “Your home is so lovely and I’m so grateful that you’re happy to put all of us up.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, Harry love!” chirps Jay, leaning back in the giant armchair and looking over at the couple fondly. “I’ve been waiting to meet you for months now and Louis tells me you don’t get to see your mother very often so I’m just glad to help with that as well.”

Harry beams and they chat idly for a few minutes more until the doorbell rings. Harry freezes and looks up like a puppy waiting for its master while Jay grins and ruffles Harry’s hair on her way to answer the door.

He hears it click open as he stands nervously. Jay’s voice can be heard saying “You must be Anne! And Gemma! Come inside, Harry’s through here!” then before he knows it he’s in his mother’s arms, holding her tightly and breathing in her familiar scent of perfume and detergent and _home_.

“Oh Harry,” says Anne weakly, like she’s struggling to hold back tears. Harry chokes out a sob into his mother’s shoulder and hugs tighter and then he feels another familiar pair of arms snake around his waist and he’s leaning back into Gemma’s arms this time, pulling her close.

The three of them stay in an awkward hug in the middle of the living room until Anne catches herself and gently disentangles herself from them before pulling Louis into his own giant hug. “So you’re the boy who my son’s been crushing on since he was fifteen, at long last!”

“Mum!” Harry exclaims, mortified. He buries his head in Gemma’s shoulder who laughs along with Louis and strokes his curls.

“Still a proper feline, I see,” she murmurs into his temple and Harry nods, still not moving his head from where it’s resting on Gemma’s shoulder.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, both of you,” says Louis with a large and happy grin, hugging Anne back with equal enthusiasm. “Harry talks about you all the time, proper mummy’s boy this one and I thought I was bad!”

“Is this Bully Harry Day or something?” whines Harry childishly and Louis grins before pulling Harry closer to him.

“Never, love. That’s every day.”

Harry pouts and Louis shakes his head before grinning back over at Gemma and Anne who are beaming at the couple. “Can I get either of you something to drink?”

“Tea for me, please, no sugar,” says Anne, “and I’m guessing Gemma will have a coffee.”

“Coming right up!” Louis says and disappears into the kitchen.

“So, Harry, Louis Tomlinson,” Gemma says with a wink and Harry groans before flopping down on the sofa.

“Yes, yes, you’re in Louis’ mum’s house and I’m in love with Louis Tomlinson for real blah blah blah, can you get your teasing out the way before he comes back in?”

“Oh please, he’s all you’ve talked about for years and now you’re actually his boyfriend and you expect us not to tease you?” Anne says with a grin. “Have we been apart for so long that you’ve forgotten what we’re like completely?”

Harry’s grin falters and he looks down at his feet. “I’m sorry, Mum, I’m so sorry. I just can’t come back, it’s not home anymore and especially now I’m with Louis and stuff I don’t want to risk seeing – “

“Oh Harry! The last thing I want to make you feel is guilty or like you should come back because I know you don’t want to, we just miss you so much and it would be so nice to have you home for longer than just a few days over Christmas.”

“I want to, Mum, so bad, but it’s just not feasible…”

He cuts off as Louis bustles back in holding Anne and Gemma’s drinks. Jay comes back in shortly after with both the twins and sets out the play-mat on the floor so they can chat while she watches them. By the end of the evening both of their mothers are getting along famously and Gemma and Lottie are chatting away on the other sofa as Louis and Harry slip into the kitchen to order a Chinese for everyone.

“It’s going well, isn’t it?” Louis murmurs as he stands up on tiptoes in order to kiss Harry, who kisses back happily. 

“So well,” Harry says happily, knocking their foreheads together. “I love you, you know. And so does Mum now.”

“I love you too. As does my mother and my entire posse.” He drops one last kiss on Harry’s mouth. “Now let me order this takeaway, I’m practically malnourished.”

Harry snorts as Louis rattles off their order to the man on the phone. When he hangs up, he turns around to head back into the living room but Harry grabs his wrist.

“Lou, I…” he says then stops, shaking his head.

“Harry, what is it, love?”

“I just… I need to tell you something later. About home. And I need you to promise that you won’t hate me.”

“Of course I won’t hate you, you stupid boy. Why would I hate you?”

“It’s just… it’s a big thing. And it might change the way you look at me and the lads, that’s all. But I want to tell you.”

“Sure, Hazza. Whatever you need, I’ll listen.”

Harry gives a small smile and Louis pushes him back into the kitchen up against a counter to kiss him properly.

They kiss until a coughing Jay from the doorway causes them to break apart, who laughs and shakes her head. “I was young and in love once too, you know. Just keep it PG when there are kids in the house, understand?”

Both boys flush but nod. They link hands and head back into the living room, Louis purposefully keeping their hands linked as he sees how on edge Harry is now.

Their dinner is lovely and filled with laughter and chat but Louis is eager to get Harry upstairs and alone so he can get him to feel less nervous.

Harry hugs his mother tightly as Louis announces around ten that they’re going to turn in. Gemma, Anne and Jay all say they’re going to stay downstairs for a bit and have another glass of wine so Harry and Louis are free to slip upstairs and head into Louis’ room.

Louis strips down to his boxers and Harry does the same before they both pad to the ensuite and clean their teeth. There’s a weird silence between them, like Harry doesn’t want to say anything and Louis doesn’t know what to do except be ready to listen when Harry’s ready to talk.

Louis gets into bed first while Harry messes around on the other side of the room, plugging his phone into the charger and typing away on it furiously.

Louis decides to throw caution to the wind and try and restore some normality to the weird tension.

“Oi, Harold, get the hell over here and spoon me, I’m cold.”

Harry looks up from his phone nervously but keeps typing. “One second, Lou, I just…”

“Hey, hey.” Louis scrambles out of bed and places both his hands on Harry’s hips, thumbing at them reassuringly. “Baby, it’s okay. You don’t have to be nervous, you don’t even have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Harry puts his phone down on the dresser and runs his fingers gently up Louis’ toned arms. “No, I want to. It’s just… well we haven’t talked about it in such a long time and I…”

Louis kisses him on the chest. “I love you. I’ll still love you even if you’ve killed a man, I just won’t be very pleased with you, that’s all.”

Harry gives a weak chuckle at long last and lets Louis lead him over to the bed. They slide under the duvet and they kiss for a long time until Harry pulls back and cups Louis’ face delicately. “I love you. I’m so lucky to have you and just… please don’t think any less of the lads for this, especially Liam because that would kill him.”

“Of course not, Hazza, of course not. I’m listening whenever you’re ready,” Louis replies, tucking the duvet around him snugger.

“Okay,” Harry starts slowly. “So I met Niall in Year One and Zayn in Year Seven and we were always a three, all throughout high school. We met Zayn when he was being held up against some lockers and this little prick called Mitchell was calling him a Paki, so I punched him and ever since then we’ve been best friends.”

Louis nods and lets Harry continue. “So then we stayed at our school for sixth form and a load of people left, including Mitchell, and a load of new people came, one of which was Liam. I’m pretty sure Zayn was in love with him the second he laid eyes on him but he wasn’t out then. Mum says I came out when I was about five and everyone knew and so it wasn’t like people were hugely homophobic but Zayn was, like, the only coloured person in our year so I don’t think he wanted to be the gay kid when he was already the brown kid, plus his parents are very religious and he was terrified to come out to them.”

“Liam originally sat on the other side of the common room with the ‘cool kids’” Harry air signs and Louis rolls his eyes. “But eventually when him and Zayn realised that they wanted to be together he started sitting with us and joined our group and it was fine, except Zayn refused to make their relationship public. And that really hurt Liam. Especially when his parents started to suspect something between them so he got that tattoo of a girl on his bicep and told his parents that that was his girlfriend. That nearly broke them.” He grimaces at the memory.

“Then one day they had this fight and we were at sixth form and pretty soon the whole common room was watching when Liam told Zayn he was fucking done with Zayn’s straight boy act and then Zayn panicked and grabbed him and kissed him in full view of everyone so then they were out. And our year was fine with it because a lot of people were out at this point and Liam was popular enough so that people didn’t make comments about then. Fucking high school politics.”

“Anyway, that was fine because Liam’s parents adored Zayn and they were just always at his so his parents didn’t suspect a thing because me and him were just always at Niall’s anyway. But then we started Year Thirteen and this whole gang of absolute scum join in Year Twelve and they’re all homophobic as hell, right? Like they used to shout at me for dressing like a massive flaming poof and try and trip me in the hallways which usually sent me flying because I’m me.”

Louis tries his hardest not to laugh at the mental image of his boyfriend at sixteen with all the grace of a fawn.

“So one day towards the end of the year me and Niall and Liam are walking to meet Zayn because he had art when we had PE and they were opposite ends of the school and we’re walking down towards the common room when we see a fight starting and Zayn’s in the middle of it and it’s getting to the point where there’s actually blood so people are trying to pull people off each other. And so Liam storms straight into the middle of it and rips the little bastard skinhead off Zayn and kicks him in the stomach so he can’t get back up. It was pretty nasty and Liam was so ashamed of himself afterwards.”

Louis gasps because he really can’t imagine Liam hurting anyone, let alone kicking them in the stomach, Jesus.

“So obviously everyone who was involved in the fight got dragged to the head’s office and their parents were called in. And us four, we were just sat in this empty classroom while Niall dabbed at Zayn’s bloody nose and Liam sobbed because he felt so guilty and it was just so horrible because I felt so helpless, Lou!” Harry’s shaking now and Louis tries to sooth him with gentle touches to his side.

“And then Zayn’s dad walks in as Liam wrapped Zayn up in his arms and that’s when it really all went to shit.” Louis’ brow furrows. 

“Zayn still wasn’t out at this point?”

“Nope,” Harry confirms. “And Zayn’s dad just lost it. Says he knew his son was a disgrace and all absolutely hideous things that no son should ever hear and Zayn just didn’t say anything and just crumbled, it was the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Poor Zayn, shit,” Louis mumbles.

“Liam – Liam was so worked up and watching Zayn break like that just sent him over the edge I guess because the next thing I knew Zayn was then in Niall’s arms and Liam had punched Zayn’s dad straight in the face.”

Louis gasps and puts both his hands over his mouth. “No fucking way, what the _fuck?_ ”

Harry nods. “Yep, broke his nose and sent him flying into a table so he damaged his leg as well.”

Louis gulps. “Then what happened?”

“Zayn’s dad basically told him not to come home. So he ended up living with Niall for the rest of the year and he didn’t talk to Liam for weeks, not until after our exams. Liam was so broken. And then one day I was at Niall’s with the pair of them and Zayn just lost it, he was just sobbing “Get Liam, get Liam” over and over again. So obviously I called him and me and Niall just left them to it but we came back and they were back together because they just… they’re the kind of couple who can’t function if the other isn’t with them, you know?”

“Fuck, Haz, that’s fucking horrible.” Louis thumbs gently across Harry’s cheek. “But, like, why can’t you go home?”

Harry sighs. “The entire summer after, these skinheads just followed us around everywhere. Shouting, swearing, doing anything to get a reaction out of us. Got us kicked out of several restaurants and clubs and it was just hell. Threw a brick through Niall’s front window too. And we all know for a fact that they’re still there and they’re never going to leave. So none of us really ever want to go home, you know?”

“Harry, _Jesus_ ,” Louis gasps. “Was anybody hurt?”

“No, thank god. Niall’s family have moved back to Ireland now anyway but Niall wanted to stay with us for uni. And last Zayn heard his family moved closer to their family in Bradford and my mum’s been talking for years about moving closer to her parents back in Cheshire, she’s just waiting for her job contract to finish.”

“Wow,” Louis says dumbly. He pulls Harry into his arms and rocks him gently. “I definitely don’t think any less of you or Zayn or Liam or Niall, not even a little bit. Especially Liam. Zayn is so lucky to have someone like that and it really sucks that they went through so much, especially Zayn, my _god_.”

“I hate it so much,” Harry says, muffled by Louis’ chest. “Zayn’s one of the greatest people I’ve ever met and he doesn’t deserve any of the shit he goes through but we’d all do anything for him.”

“I know you would, Harry. You’re such a good friend to those lads and you’ve got such a big heart. I’m so lucky to call someone like you mine.”

He can feel Harry’s smile against his skin. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Louis crooks his finger under Harry’s chin and pulls him up for a kiss. “Sweetheart, why were you so nervous about telling me? You know I’d never judge you for anything like that.”

“I don’t know… I guess it’s because we’ve pushed it away as a thing to talk about for so long and it was just such a horrible time and it’s just, you’re _you_ …”

Louis cuts him off with a kiss. “I’m also your boyfriend and I love you no matter what your past happens to be.”

“I know that now,” Harry sighs. “I don’t know, it’s still kind of difficult to get my head around the fact that it’s you and it’s _you_ if you know what I mean.”

“You’re an idiot,” Louis says fondly, holding him close and kissing him temple over and over.

“I love you so much Louis. So much. I’m pretty sure I always have,” Harry says with a blush.

“Aw, babe, you flatter me,” Louis chuckles, snuggling closer to his boyfriend’s long frame. “Do you want to talk some more about it?”

“I think I’m okay for now, unless you have any questions?”

“I don’t think so. I just want you to know that I love you and I already hate those people for being cunts to you, none of you deserved that, especially not Zayn.”

Harry kisses Louis’ neck tenderly. “Love you, Lou, love you so so much.”

Louis leans into Harry’s touch and pulls him as close as he can. “You too, Hazza. So much. Goodnight, darling.”

Harry falls asleep feeling lighter than he has in weeks.

*

Harry definitely isn’t ready to leave Louis for two weeks.

They spend longer than necessary saying goodbye because Harry starts crying at one point and it takes a lot of coaxing from Gemma to get him into the car. Louis kisses him one last time, slow and deep, before refusing to even touch because they’ll miss their flight otherwise.

Harry sulks the entire flight because he can’t text Louis on the plane until Gemma slaps him round the back of the head with her carry-on bag.

The south of France is lovely and they’ve got a beautiful little villa overlooking the sea next to a market and a little forest. Over the next two weeks, the Styles’ swim, sunbathe, eat beautiful food and drink wine and Harry makes a mental note to himself to never go this long without seeing his mum and sister again.

On the last night, Harry cooks local fish and potatoes and fresh vegetables for them all and they eat it on the terrace. 

“This is delicious, Harry,” Anne compliments as she spears another potato on her fork. “It’s nice reassurance that you’re eating well if you can cook something this good.”

“Heeeey, I learnt from the best, didn’t I?” 

“To be fair, if I were Louis I’d probably stay with you because of your ability to cook so well,” Gemma says with a grin.

“Louis isn’t allowed to eat most of my cooking. He’s got a really strict diet plan from the team and apparently I use too much oil and butter and nice things,” Harry pouts. 

“Oh, wow, like all year round?”

“Yeah, I know. The first time he met the boys he bought pizza and only ate three slices so gave the rest of his pizza to Niall. I think that’s when Niall first fell in love with him.”

“Is it weird?” Anne asks curiously. “I know you’ve always had a thing for him but I can’t imagine actually, you know, being married to Sting or some other musician I have a thing for.”

Harry groans. “It’s different, I don’t know. Like I see Louis and it’s not like he’s the footballer I’ve been crushing on my entire life, he’s just Louis, you know?”

“God, you’re so gone for him,” Gemma teases around a forkful of salad. “You’re putting me off my dinner, you disgustingly happy little turd.”

“Aw, love you too Gemz, don’t be too jealous!” Harry teases right back, sticking his tongue out childishly. 

“In all seriousness though,” Anne interrupts faux-sharply, “this isn’t just a fling, is it? You’re in this for the long run?”

Harry pauses, chewing on a tomato thoughtfully. “I can’t imagine wanting to be with anybody else. He makes me laugh, he makes me feel safe, he treats me like a prince and he seems to feel the same way. I love him a lot and I’m just… I’m really happy, properly happy.”

Anne cups his cheek softly. “I’m glad, Harry. You’ve found a goodun there, he’s good for you and I can tell by the way that he looks at you that he’s in it for the long run too. And if you’re happy I’m happy.”

“Thanks Mum, that means so much.” Harry nuzzles into her hand like he’s five years old again. “I promise I won’t go nearly as long without seeing you next year as well. I’ve only got three modules plus my dissertation so you should be able to come up some weekends and Louis said you can stay at his, no problem.”

Anne nods eagerly. “I’d really like that, Harry. I miss you so much, it’s hard going so long without seeing my boy.”

The rest of the evening passes too quickly for Harry’s liking; as much as he misses Louis, he can see him every day whereas he’s not sure when he’ll see his mum and Gemma next.

That doesn’t stop him driving straight to Louis’ and blowing him on the stairs when he lands back in England though.

*

In late August Louis’ football season starts up again and he finds himself travelling up and down the country for games. When he’s at home, he’s up at the actual arsecrack of dawn for training so Harry becomes accustomed to waking up to an empty bed. More often than not though, Louis will leave him a cup of tea and he usually wakes up in enough time for it still to be warm. 

Louis comes back around noon but he’s not allowed to get back into bed and snuggle so him and Harry go on a lot of daytrips – shopping in Manchester, the zoo, museums. Sometimes Harry will watch the evening training sessions from the stands and then takes Louis home. Sometimes they’ll fuck but more often than not Louis’ too tired so they watch films or play FIFA with the lads.

Harry doesn’t ever want this summer to end.

It eventually does though and the boys all start back at uni and Louis trains but he still sleeps over most nights, sometimes bringing KitKat who curls up at the foot of Harry’s bed like it’s his home.

Harry also goes to all Louis’ home games. He knows Louis is nervous because there’s a big match against Man City coming up and the two teams are notorious arch-rivals so he’s training extra hard. Harry loves the soft Louis that materialises in the evening, letting Harry rub his back until his hand aches and wash his hair as they huddle together in the tiny shared shower.

The Man City match is where it all goes to shit.

Both Niall and Zayn have big projects due in the Monday after so Harry and Liam go without them, sitting in the family box along with the other girlfriends, parents and children of the United players. Harry’s wearing Louis’ spare TOMLINSON 17 training jersey proudly, giving Louis two thumbs up whenever he looks up and catches Harry’s eye.

City are 1-0 up and Louis is visibly stressed, running his hands through his hair over and over. He takes the ball from another player and goes to score when a City player slams into him hard, knocking them both to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Harry stands up, panicked and looks frantically around for the ref because that was definitely a foul. The other player stands up first and pulls Louis to his feet before whispering something in his ear. Louis’ expression goes tight and he yanks his hand away from him and jogs over to Stan, shouting something angrily at him. Harry can see the anger flashing in his eyes from here and he watches as Stan’s face turns into a tight line of anger too.

“What the fuck was that?” snaps Liam, gesturing angrily over at the scene. “What did he say, man? Louis looks _pissed._ ”

“I don’t know but he’s not happy,” Harry replies with a hint of nerves in his voice. “I hope it doesn’t affect his game, he’s been uptight about this for weeks.”

The next few minutes are a blur. Louis lines himself up for another goal but then the player jogs past and says something to Louis again. Harry watches in horror as Louis ignores the ball and punches him straight in the face. A collective gasp goes through the stands as Stan runs over and pulls Louis’ arms back to stop him hitting him again. Louis struggles against him but then the rest of both the teams hurry over to the scene. 

The ref red-cards Louis immediately and Harry has to hold back his tears as he watches Louis leave the pitch at a jog. Stan, another teammate called Sandy and Paul are shouting at the ref but he’s raising his hand and blowing his whistle, signalling the continuation of the game.

“I need to find him,” Harry says urgently, standing up from his seat and tugging Liam out of the box back inside the stadium and down to the changing rooms.

Liam waits outside as Harry punches in the code for the changing room and lets himself in. He finds Louis sat on a bench with his head in his hands, heavy breaths racking his whole body.

“Lou?” Harry says quietly, crouching down and wrapping his hands gently around Louis’ wrists. Louis gasps softly and lets Harry pull his hands away from his eyes, which are sparkling with unshed tears.

“Oh baby, no, don’t cry,” Harry coos, dropping down on his knees and pulling Louis close to his body as Louis finally lets go, huge sobs of emotion staining Harry’s jersey. He holds him until Paul barges into the changing room, swearing under his breath. 

“Jesus, Louis, _Jesus_!” he shouts angrily. “I HATE City so fucking much, but that, that was too much and you’re the one being punished?!”

“What happened?” Harry says desperately and Louis lets out a particularly loud sob. Paul shakes his head violently.

“I’m not mad at you, Louis, I would have done the same but you probably could have handled it better, told the ref even!”

“What did he do?” Harry cries, holding Louis tighter and rocking him gently.

Louis makes a strangled sort of sound as he swallows down another sob. “First time when he knocked me down he told me that it wasn’t anything I didn’t deserve because faggot cocksuckers don’t belong in football.” Harry’s mouth drops open and Paul growls.

“And then,” Louis continues slowly, his eyes filling with fresh tears, “he made a comment about you and that’s when I punched him.” Harry stares down at him with wide eyes. “Told me that you were basically just licking the shit out of my arse both literally and figuratively for my money and it’s a good thing that we can’t have children together because they’d be ugly as hell like you.”

Harry stops rocking Louis and his own eyes fill with tears because wow, that hurt. Louis buries his face back into Harry’s chest and pulls him tighter as Harry wipes furiously at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“He’s so wrong, so wrong and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I punched him but he deserved it and I…”

“He really did deserve it,” Paul interrupts, his hands clenched into fists. “This is going to be controversial and a lot for the club to deal with but it’s worth it because arseholes like that do not belong in this sport.”

Louis nods into Harry’s chest and Harry peppers reassuring kisses across Louis’ sweaty forehead.

“Right, you two should probably head off before the media swarm kicks in. Go home, lock your doors, do not talk to any journalists or anything, you understand?” Both boys nod. “I’m going to argue your case as much as I can because I refuse to stand for this. I don’t think I’ve ever been this mad before, _Jesus fuck_.”

“Thanks Paul,” croaks Louis, standing up and pulling his bag out of his locker. Paul pulls him into a reassuring hug. Harry tucks Louis back under his arm and they hurry out, grabbing Liam on the way out. They reach Louis’ Land Rover but Louis is in no position to drive so Harry takes the wheel. They stop by the flat to drop Liam off and for Harry to grab some important things like his phone charger and laptop for uni the next day.

Liam hugs Harry tight before he heads back to the car. Harry hugs back and buries his head in Liam’s shoulder, using everything in his power not to cry again.

The drive to Louis’ is silent. Louis’ staring out the window, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and Harry can tell he’s trying not to cry again. Watching his boyfriend in this state is so heart-breaking because he’s usually so buzzed after a game, taking Harry home and using his adrenalin to ride Harry’s cock until they both can’t come anymore. 

Once they reach Louis’ house Harry parks up and leads his still-silent boyfriend indoors, grabbing both their bags from the backseat and slinging them onto his back. He drops them in the hallway and turns to Louis, stroking his cheek gently. “Why don’t you go and wait upstairs for me, sweetheart? I’ll just make sure KitKat has enough food and I’ll order us some takeaway, okay?”

Louis doesn’t even have it in him to argue about his diet and silently turns around and trudges up the stairs. Harry watches him before turning to the kitchen, filling KitKat’s bowl with fresh IAMS and tops up her water. He then phones their local Chinese and orders all Louis’ favourites, rattling off his debit card number so they can leave the food at the gate so Louis doesn’t have to see anyone else.

He sighs as he hangs up the phone, pocketing it quickly and heading up the stairs to Louis’ bedroom. The door is open and Louis is lying on his stomach with his head buried in the pillows, still not moving and still fully dressed in his football kit. Harry kicks off his shoes and slides onto the bed next to him, his hand rubbing gently up and down Louis’ back.

“Harry?” Louis says softly into the pillows.

“Yes, darling?” Harry answers, pressing his head as close to Louis’ as he dares.

“Are you…” Louis rolls over so he’s finally looking at Harry, eyes big. “Are you upset with me?”

Harry’s hand stills on Louis’ back. “Of course not, Lou, why would you think that?”

“Because I made a complete twat out of myself in front of the whole country and there’s going to be so much backlash from this and you’re going to be in the centre and I know you have a lot to deal with, what with uni and all…”

“Louis!” Harry cuts across him sharply. “I could never be upset with you for something like this. It was so not your fault and I’m going to stand by you for all of this, okay? That guy deserved that hit you laid on him because he can’t, _shouldn’t_ get away with that!”

“Harry…” Louis says brokenly and starts sobbing. Harry pulls him as close as he can without suffocating him and rocks him back and forth, murmuring nothings into his ear like “you’re so wonderful, Lou” and “I love you so much” and “my hero!”

Louis cries until Harry’s phone rings, signalling the arrival of the takeaway. Harry kisses him gently on the lips and says “I’ll get that. You change into something more comfortable and meet me in the lounge.”

Louis pecks him on the lips one last time and nods before sliding his t-shirt over his head. Harry grins and then turns and pads down the stairs, stepping into a pair of flip flops by the door as he grabs his keys from the side.

He hurries down the driveway, already noticing that a small group of paps have gathered. He knows he’s snapped a few times but he doesn’t think that him collecting a takeaway is a hugely exciting story so just keeps his head low as he hurries back into the house.

Louis’ already collected plates and glasses of coke from the kitchen and spread them out on the living room floor. Harry kisses him firmly before the pair sits down and eats on the floor and Louis’ almost back to his normal self.

It’s only when they’re lying in bed after, Grease playing muted on the huge TV in the background as they kiss messily that Louis’ phone rings and he goes rigid in Harry’s arms. Harry locks their fingers tightly together as Louis presses the ACCEPT button with shaky fingers.

Harry listens as best he can to what Paul’s saying but it’s difficult to focus when Louis’ squeezing his fingers as tightly as he is. After a fifteen minute conversation, Louis hangs up and drops his phone to the floor, curling into Harry’s chest.

“I have a press conference tomorrow and I’m suspended for three months,” he mumbles wetly. “But so has that cunt so I feel less bad.”

Harry wraps his long arms tightly around Louis’ back. “Oh Louis, baby, that’s so unfair!”

“It’s not unfair, I deserve it. I shouldn’t have punched him. I should have gone and told the ref, or Paul or someone. Now I look bad and the club looks bad and it’s just a whole pile of shit,” Louis spits, fisting his hands in Harry’s shirt.

“I love you. You’re so brave and strong and wonderful and if people can’t see what I can then they’re fucking idiots,” Harry says fiercely. 

Louis nods with a sniff. “Will you come with me to the press conference tomorrow? I know you have uni and stuff but I really want you with me.”

“Of course, Louis, of course. It’s nothing I can’t copy off Ed later anyway. I’m not leaving you.”

“Thanks Harry,” Louis mumbles. “I love you a lot, in case you didn’t know.”

Harry kisses his forehead and shifts down so they’re looking each other in the eye. “I’m so proud of you and I…”

He’s cut off by Louis’ phone ringing loudly from the floor. Louis leans over and fishes it up and groans when he sees the name on the screen. “Oh God, it’s my mum.”

Harry can’t help but laugh at how scared Louis looks as he presses the ACCEPT button.

“Hi Mum,” he squeaks and Harry is properly laughing as his expression turns to mortified as he hears Jay’s familiar voice screech “LOUIS WILLIAM TOMLINSON, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PLAYING AT? I RAISED YOU BETTER THAN TO GO AROUND PUNCHING PEOPLE!”

“I’m sorry mummy, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it was an accident, I promise!” Louis whines, sounding like a child whose been found with his hand in the biscuit tin rather than a grown man of twenty-three. 

He hears Jay bark “what did he even say to you, Louis?” and he feels Louis tense next to him.

“He, er, he made a comment about Harry. Called me a faggot cocksucker first but then he started talking about Harry and I had to, I’m sorry Mum.”

Jay goes a lot quieter on the other end and Louis curls up again, clutching the phone to his ear tightly as he tells her about his suspension. He hangs up a few minutes later with a chirp and a hiccup of “I love you mummy, night night.”

“She’s not mad at me. Well, she’s a little mad at me. Mostly she’s mad at the situation. Also says to give you a hug from her.”

Harry accepts the hug and pulls Louis tight against him. He’s still breathing heavily so Harry kisses him gently in the hope that he’ll calm down. 

Eventually Louis drifts off in Harry’s arms, looking impossibly younger and vulnerable. Harry clutches him tightly and eventually allows Louis’ steady breaths to lull him under into an uneasy sleep.

*

Louis thinks that if he and Harry come away from this press conference without any broken fingers then that’ll be an achievement in itself. 

They both grip each other’s hands tightly as they’re led through a sea of paparazzi into the back bit of the stadium where post-game press conferences are usually held. There’s an unholy amount of journalists there and Louis’ dressed in a suit, which is a big enough of a change for Harry to feel on edge anyway. 

Paul places his hand on Harry’s shoulder as Louis approaches the podium to speak. Harry feels about as sick as Louis looks as he stands up and addresses all the journalists after a representative of the Club introduces Louis and the case.

“Good morning everyone. My name is Louis Tomlinson and about eighteen months ago, I came out as the first openly gay footballer in any Premier League team.”

There’s a smattering of cheers and applause from the journalists and the rest of Louis’ team who are also sat near the back. Stan shoots Louis two thumbs up and he grins as he presses on.

“It’s not easy being gay in this sport but none of my teammates from United or Doncaster Rovers when I was with them ever made me feel like any less of a person because of it and I am exceptionally grateful. Which is why I find it incredibly difficult when people try and use my sexuality against me when playing the beautiful game.”

“Here, here!” calls out Sandy from the back. Paul shoots him a look and he shuts up.

“Yesterday, I punched an opponent in the face because he felt it was appropriate to not only knock me to the floor but to call me homophobic slurs and tell me that there’s no place for gay people in football. He then proceeded a few minutes later to go out of his way to insult my boyfriend and tell me that it’s lucky we can’t have children, which was not an easy thing to hear.” 

There’s a collective gasp around the studio as all the journalists try to scribble down what the brute said. 

“I am not proud of how I reacted but it’s incredibly difficult to stay composed when someone is insulting the person you love the most in the world.” He looks over to Harry who’s beaming at him with such pride and love that he continues. 

“I love my game and I’m incredibly proud of myself and my team and how far we’ve come. I accept that what I did was wrong and I fully understand that a three month suspension is a suitable punishment for how I acted because I shouldn’t have let it get to me. But we need to address the fact that despite the fact that it’s 2014, homophobia still exists and that’s just not right. I know I am one of the best players but my sexuality has nothing to do with it. It’s a small part of who I am and nobody should ever have something as trivial as their sexuality or their race or their gender used against them. Which is why I don’t regret what I’ve done, because if it takes me punching a homophobe in the face and being suspended for three months for people to talk about these issues then so be it.”

The majority of the room are on their feet now, clapping and cheering. Harry’s watching with tears of pride pouring down his face and Louis wants nothing more than to kiss him.

“I’m so grateful and lucky to have a manager as caring as Paul Higgins, who has treated me better than I deserve given the situation. I’m so lucky to have teammates like I do, who support me through everything and have never made me feel anything less like the best captain I can be. But mostly, I’m so lucky to have my Harry, who I love unconditionally and is the best boyfriend anyone could ever ask for. Thank you so much for listening to what I have to say today.”

The applause that Louis finishes to is almost deafening and he’s barely off the stage before he’s in Harry’s arms, Harry bending down and kissing him wetly and passionately. Louis has a massive smile on his face as he kisses back, winding his arm around Harry’s neck to keep himself steady as all the camera flashes nearly blind him into tripping.

The kiss is on the cover of pretty much every single paper in Europe the next day. Harry’s hounded on the way to uni every single day and he’s stopped outside lectures with people asking him for pictures or simply saying congratulations or asking to pass on their thanks and good wishes to Louis.

It takes a good few weeks for the furore to die down and it’s starting to take its toll on Harry, who has a lot of work to do for his dissertation, as well as finishing up two of his three modules. Paps have started following him to and from lectures and home to his own flat, which is putting a stress on the other three as well.

It’s a tense few weeks but Louis makes it as easy as he can, letting the boys stay at his house and ordering them food when they need space. Harry starts pulling all-nighters at the library but Louis always sneaks in in a hoodie and beanie and brings him a sandwich and coffee, giving him back rubs when he’s home and blowing him to relieve the built-up tension. He even invites Gemma up for a couple of weekends and being around his sister for a bit seems to help Harry’s moods dramatically.

Eventually, the Christmas holidays rolls around and all their coursework is finally submitted. The four boys share a collective sigh of relief but Liam and Zayn disappear to their room almost the very second they get home and Niall’s packing a bag to basically move into Danielle’s so Harry drives straight to Louis’. The second Louis opens the door Harry’s all over him like a vine, carrying him up the stairs and ripping his clothes off on the way.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so fucking much,” grunts Harry as he kicks off his shoes and dives down onto the bed to plunge his tongue deep into Louis’ mouth. Louis shucks his joggers and boxers in seconds and flips them over, kissing down Harry’s lean body.

“Let me take care of you, baby. You deserve a reward for finishing this term in one piece.”

“Please,” whimpers Harry. Louis gently undoes the button on Harry’s jeans and shimmies them down, pulling his socks off and leaving him in just his boxers. He grabs the lube from the bedside table and is just pulling Harry’s boxers down while sucking a lovebite just below Harry’s belly button when Harry whispers shyly “can you eat me out?”

Louis’ eyes grow big. He’s never done that before. Harry has once and Louis had come so hard he’d cried for about twenty minutes after. Harry looks desperate though and he’s so turned on by this beautiful boy that he’s willing to do pretty much anything right now.

He nods and tentatively rolls Harry onto his stomach. “Can you open your legs for me, darling? As wide as you can?” Harry nods into the pillow and hooks one of his arms around his leg to expose himself completely. Louis gets his head close and breaths gently over Harry’s hole, watching it flutter from the not-enough contact.

The first lick tastes weird, like kind of musky and sweaty but definitely like Harry. He licks again and then again and by the time he’s built up a rhythm Harry is moaning filthily into the pillow. He starts probing his tongue into Harry’s hole, feeling it try and clench around the slippery surface. 

“More, Louis, _please_ , ah!” Harry’s exclaiming as he squirms. Louis’ hands are keeping Harry’s cheeks spread apart and he delves in as deep as he can, practically open-mouth kissing Harry’s hole now.

“So fucking good!” groans out Harry as he ruts against the bed sheets. “So fucking close, Louis, stop, stop, let me fuck you, please!”

Louis licks one final filthy stripe up to Harry’s crack before he’s handing the lube into his boyfriend’s hands. Harry rolls over onto his back and pulls Louis down next to him so they’re both lying on their sides, kissing filthily. Louis hears the familiar _snick_ of the lube bottle opening and then Harry’s hands are pulling him closer and ghosting down to his entrance, pressing in gently as they continue to kiss.

Pretty soon, Harry has three fingers in and Louis can’t take it anymore. He rolls himself onto his back and pulls a pillow from above his head, sliding it under his hips. Harry places one hand on Louis’ solid thigh and the other on his shoulder and presses in.

They glide together smoothly and slowly, the only sounds skin slapping skin and the tiny _uh uh uh_ noises falling from Louis’ mouth. They make love without breaking eye contact for what feels like hours and we they do come, it’s within a minute of each other. Harry fucks them both through their orgasms and only stops when his arms physically can’t hold him up anymore.

They lie in each other’s arms until they fall asleep and the next morning Louis wakes up to see Harry watching him sleep.

“You’re creepy as fuck, Styles,” he groans as he snuggles deeper under the duvet, squirming when he feels how sore he is. “You’re creepy as fuck and you’ve made my bum hurt.”

“That’s a crying shame,” murmurs Harry as he snuggles down to meet Louis’ eyes. “It’s such a beautiful bum as well.” He reaches over and kneads the meaty flesh of Louis’ arse in his giant hands. Louis moans softly because he really is very sore and he also still has Harry’s cum in him, which is rather uncomfortable.

They shower together and Harry blows Louis against the tiles while tugging himself off. They dress and Harry packs Louis an overnight bag as Louis bundles KitKat and a load of IAMS into her travel cage. He drags the suitcase he’s already packed out of the living room and into his Land Rover then goes back and collects KitKat and Harry before they drive to Harry’s flat.

They have Friend Christmas, where Zayn cooks them all a Christmas dinner and they swap cheap presents and jokes and watch films and eat too many Quality Streets together until the 19th December, when Niall catches a flight over to his family in Mullingar and Liam, Zayn and Harry all bundle into Harry’s beat up old car to drive home until the 27th, Zayn staying with Liam of course.

Harry and Louis kiss for disgustingly long until Liam throws a pencil at Harry’s head and Louis disappears to drive to his own family in Doncaster. The drive back home for Harry, Liam and Zayn is a few hours but they sing Christmas songs and laugh about the time they caught Niall eating Danielle out on their loveseat and talk about what they’re going to do on their return to Manchester.

Christmas passes almost too quickly for Harry’s liking. He barely leaves the house, choosing to spend all his time with Gemma and his Mum and Robin and the various family members that flock around the house at that time of year. 

He skypes Louis on Christmas Eve which is also Louis’ birthday and watches Louis unwrap his present from him, which is a coupon that Zayn drew for him for One Couple’s Tattoo of your choosing and a long pink dildo which Louis uses right then and there, Harry biting painfully onto his forearm as he jerks himself desperately.

On Christmas Day, he unwraps a new set of car keys from his Mum, Robin and Gemma and a new iPad from Louis as well as the tickets to three sold out gigs that he was desperate to see. He rings him up straight away and tells him he’s such a prick for spending too much but Louis just laughs and says “you deserve it, Hazza. Merry Christmas, darling.”

By the time the 27th comes around Harry is sorry to say goodbye to his family but so ready to see Louis again it’s ridiculous. He hugs his Mum for a long time and tells her that he’ll definitely come and see her for a weekend after he’s submitted his dissertation. She nods tearfully and helps him pack his suitcase into his new car, then he drives over to Liam’s to collect him and Zayn.

He pulls up outside and honks his horn and Liam sticks his head out the front door, giving him a small wave. He drags both suitcases down the pathway and opens the boot, wolf-whistling as he does so.

“Sweet new ride, Harry!” he says with a chuckle as he slams the boot shut, walking back up to the house to say goodbye to his family.

Harry watches Liam hug both his parents in the doorway, then Zayn emerges and shakes Liam’s dad’s hand and embraces Liam’s mum tightly. She whispers something in his ear and Zayn’s grip on her tightens as he nods. Liam puts a gentle hand on Zayn’s shoulder and points in Harry’s direction and Karen nods, kissing Zayn on the cheek before Liam winds an arm around his waist. With one final wave they’re heading down the driveway and Liam scrambles into the backseat while Zayn claims the passenger seat.

Louis and Niall are already back and playing FIFA when the three boys arrive back when it’s getting dark outside. Louis has just enough time to pause his game and open his arms before Harry is all over him, kissing him like he’s just gotten back from war. The other three groan and throw various objects at them until they move into Harry’s room but Louis is pointedly louder than usual and Niall can’t look either of them in the eye the next day.

Life goes back to normal for a while. They fall into a comfortable routine and it seems ridiculous that five (then six when Danielle gets back) people and a cat can fit happily into their tiny three bedroom flat but they make it work and Harry loves every second of it.

*

It all changes for Zayn and Liam on a Thursday. 

The three couples have pushed all the furniture back in the living room and have a giant game of Monopoly spread across the whole floor. They’re all laughing as Harry goes to jail for the fourth time when Zayn’s phone rings against the hard wood of the living room floor. It’s an unknown number so Zayn presses ACCEPT without stopping laughing.

Liam watches as his face drops as he hears the person on the other end speak and when he speaks it’s barely louder than a whisper. “Waliyha?”

Niall, Harry and Liam all freeze and stop laughing almost immediately. Zayn looks terrified as he listens to Waliyha speak and he starts shaking as a choked sob falls from his mouth. “She’s a mum now?” he says brokenly and then he really starts crying, his tight grasp around the phone slipping the harder he shakes.

Liam takes the phone from his boyfriend and presses it to his ear. “Waliyha? It’s Liam. What’s happened, love?”

“Oh Liam,” Waliyha chokes out, somewhat hysterical. “It’s Doniya, she’s been in a car accident.” 

Liam freezes and looks over at a panicked Zayn who’s currently being bundled up into Niall’s arms.

“Oh my god, is she…?”

“She’s currently being moved to a specialist hospital wing in Nottingham where they treat people who may be brain damaged. Liam, _please_ , he needs to be here. I know he probably doesn’t want to but we need our brother…” She breaks off into a sob and Liam stands up nodding. 

“Of course, of course. He’ll get to you, I promise. Which hospital is it?” 

“Nottingham City, just ask at the desk I guess. I have to go, I’m sorry…” she stammers out and Liam bids her goodbye and hangs up.

“Come on, Zayn, babe, we’ve gotta get you to Nottingham,” Liam says croakily, looking down at his broken boyfriend whose still sobbing in Niall’s arms.

“I can’t!” Zayn sniffs. “I can’t, they won’t let me see her, I know they won’t!”

“You’re both adults, it’s not up to them, babe.” Liam drops to his knees and pulls Zayn into his body where he feels him go limp, clinging to Liam like a lifeline. 

“She doesn’t want to see me, Liam,” Zayn continues to choke out. “She’s married and she has a baby and she didn’t once try and get in contact with me, _fuck, Liam_ …”

“You need to go, at least for Wali and Safaa’s sake, come on Zayn,” pleads Liam. Zayn pulls his head away from Liam’s chest and looks up and him, eventually nodding.

Harry’s already grabbing his car keys from his bedroom and Niall is pressing a quick kiss into Danielle’s lips as he pulls on his shoes.

“What…?” Zayn starts but Harry shushes him. 

“Mate, we’re coming with you. You’re not doing this alone,” says Niall as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He pulls on a hoodie and grabs his wallet from the coffee table. “We ready?”

Harry kisses Louis quickly and both him and Danielle promise to be here when they get back. The four hurry downstairs and this time Niall slides into the passenger seat so Liam and Zayn can sit as close as possible in the back, Liam carding his hand through Zayn’s thick hair and whispering constant reassurances. 

The drive from Manchester to Nottingham is long and the roads are slippery as fuck so it takes Harry longer than anticipated to get them there. By the time they get there it’s early evening and pitch dark outside. They pull up in the car park and Harry pauses before he drives in.

“You two go. We’ll find somewhere to park and sit in the waiting room or something. Text us if you need anything?”

“Thanks Haz,” rasps Zayn, throat tight from crying. The couple shuffle out the car and towards the entrance and Liam walks straight up to the front desk, Zayn’s hand clutched tightly in his.

“Hiya, can you tell us where Doniya Malik is please? She’s been brought here following a car accident?” he inquires.

“Yeah, she’s third floor in the ICU. Only family allowed, I’m afraid though.”

“I’m her brother,” Zayn says quietly. “I’m her brother and this is my boyfriend.”

The receptionist nods and points them in the direction of a lift. They thank her and Liam leads a shaky Zayn to the lift and up to the third floor. The lift pings as the door opens and Zayn takes several deep breathes before stepping out.

Safaa sees him first. She gives a cry of “Zayn!” and she’s plummeting into his chest in seconds. He drops Liam’s hand and picks her up into his arms and holds her there tightly as she wraps her legs securely around his waist.

He holds her until he feels a tugging on his arm and he pulls his face out of Safaa’s shoulder to see Waliyha. He sets Safaa back on her feet and pulls both his sisters into a bone-crushing and wet hug as all three cry together.

Liam sees Zayn’s mum come around the corner and she freezes as hers and Liam’s eyes meet. She fish mouths for a few seconds but then Zayn looks up from his sisters and sees his mum and he freezes as well.

Safaa and Waliyha pull away when they notice him staring at their mum and step behind him. Trisha Malik’s expression is unreadable and just as Liam is reaching forward to lace his and Zayn’s fingers together she runs into her son’s arms and pulls him close, crying into his chest as she whimpers out Zayn’s name.

Liam stands there dumbly but then Safaa and Waliyha are hugging him as well and he pulls them close as they cry. The whole situation is so overwhelming that Liam finds himself tearing up.

“How is she?” he mumbles to Waliyha, who tightens her grip around his middle.

“Stable for now but they keep saying she should have woken up by now. I feel so helpless!” Waliyha cries out loudly and buries her face into Liam’s side, Liam snaking his arm tighter around her as she cries.

Trisha and Zayn separate as they hear Waliyha sob and Trisha turns to look at Liam. He hears Zayn breath hitch and Trisha shakes her head slowly. “Liam, forgive me but I don’t know if you’ll be greatly wanted here.”

Liam nods. “I get it, it’s fine. I just wanted to make sure Zayn got here safely. I’ll go and wait downstairs.”

“No!” Zayn half-shouts, reaching forward and wrapping his fingers around Liam’s wrist. “Stay. I need you.”

Trisha opens her mouth but then Yaser Malik comes round the corner and Zayn freezes. Liam instinctively pulls Zayn close to him, his arm winding around his middle as Zayn goes rigid with fear.

Yaser stops in his tracks and stares at the couple for a few seconds before turning straight around and heading back in the direction he came, swearing under his breath.

Zayn sags and Liam winds his other arm around him to keep him standing. 

Trisha looks ready to cry again. “It’s not going to be easy, you being here, but I know she’ll want you here…” She pauses to wipe her eyes. “Would you like to meet your nephew?”

Zayn chokes on an unreleased sob and pauses for a few seconds before nodding. Liam slowly unwinds his arms from around him and lets Zayn step forward but Zayn reaches back, clutching for Liam’s hand.

Trisha leads the couple over to where a tallish blonde man was standing, rocking a softly crying child back and forth in his arms.

“Laurence?” Trisha says gently. The blonde man looks up with wide eyes. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a while and gladly obliges when Trisha leans forward to take the baby out of his arms. “This is Zayn. Zayn, this is Laurence, Doniya’s husband.”

“Hey man, nice to finally meet you,” Laurence says with a small smile, reaching forward to shake Zayn’s hand. “Doniya talked about you a lot, you know. You’re just as handsome as she said.”

Zayn takes his outstretched hand and nods dumbly, still rather overwhelmed that Doniya is married and a _mother_ now.

“And this is Liam,” Trisha says, not looking up from where she’s wiping the baby’s mouth. “Zayn’s boyfriend.”

Laurence takes his hand too and in that moment Zayn is _so_ pleased with Doniya’s taste in men.

“Would you like to meet baby Sam?” Laurence says softly. Trisha silently stands and hands the baby over to Zayn and he looks down at the tiny child in his arms. He has a thick tuft of jet black hair and a skin tone somewhere in between Doniya’s and Laurence’s pale complexion and he’s absolutely beautiful.

Liam’s supportive hand finds its way to Zayn’s waist and the pair stand there staring down at the baby for what feels like ages. Zayn doesn’t realise he’s crying until Liam’s large thumb catches some of the tears falling down his cheeks.

Laurence takes him back eventually and Liam pulls Zayn down into one of the hard plastic chairs. They wait in silence for about half an hour and then a doctor comes in with a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other.

“Good news, everyone. She’s awake!”

Laurence lets out a huge sigh of relief and Trisha starts crying again, pulling Waliyha into a tight hug. Zayn buries his head into Liam’s chest and Liam smiles as he kisses the top of his head over and over, murmuring “I knew she would be.”

“Can I see her? Please?” asks Laurence. The doctor nods.

“Sure. Only two people for now though, please. We don’t want to overwhelm her. Also, it’s likely she’ll be very tired so don’t be too worried if she falls asleep mid-sentence, that’s completely normal. We’ll run a CT scan tomorrow and if everything looks well in that she should be out of here by Monday.”

“Thank you,” Laurence breathes out, relieved. He hands baby Sam over to Trisha and turns to Zayn. “Zayn, do you want to come with me?”

Zayn’s mouth drops open. “Me? Are you sure?”

Laurence nods. “She’ll want to see you, know you’re here and all that. I think it’d mean a lot to her.”

Liam pushes him gently towards Laurence. “Go. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

Zayn nods and presses a quick kiss onto Liam’s cheek before following Laurence down to Doniya’s room. It’s been nearly four years since he saw Doniya and he isn’t ready for the sight of her looking so tiny and fragile in the hospital bed. She’s awake though, and when both boys walk in the room she gasps and covers her mouth with her hands, eyes filling with tears.

“Doni…”

“Did it really take all this to get you to talk to me again?” she cries out, reaching out to swat at him weakly.

“You didn’t try either!” he replies weakly but his voice is muffled as she hugs him as best she can from the awkward angle of the hospital bed.

They hug for a long time and even after lying in a hospital bed she still smells of the same shampoo and perfume as she did four years ago.

“Missed you, you giant shit,” she murmurs, pressing her lips into his temple. Her eyes then travel over to Laurence. “Laurence, babe…”

“Baby, no, I am so so sorry!” babbles Laurence, dropping down to her left side and kissing her knuckles over and over again. “The road was so slippy and I tried to break, I tried!”

“I know, I know sweetheart, it’s not your fault,” she says, squeezing his hands. “You’re okay though, right? The doctor told me you and Sam were unscratched.”

“Both of us are totally fine, Sam’s with your mum. I think he’s going to need his mummy soon though, he’s restless and weepy as all hell.”

Doniya nods and turns her head to join their lips. Zayn looks away while the couple have their moment but then Doniya tugs on his arm and he looks back.

“Have you spoken to Baba?”

“He saw me with Liam and then walked in the other direction. I have no idea where he went but he doesn’t want to talk to me and that’s fine. I just needed to make sure you and the girls were okay.”

“Zayn…” Doniya swallows nervously. “You need to know that this was all Baba, you know? I would have invited you to my wedding in a second but it was just easier not to and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“No, it’s fine, I promise.” Zayn presses one last kiss into Doniya’s temple and stands up. “I shouldn’t really be here anyway, Baba made it pretty clear where I stand for the rest of my life.” 

“Don’t leave!” Doniya says weakly, her grip on Laurence’s hand tightening. 

“I don’t want to leave Liam out there with Baba, Doni,” Zayn says worriedly. Doniya looks thoughtful for a second. 

“Waliyha has your number, yeah?” Zayn nods. “When I’m out of here we’ll all come visit you. Me, Laurence, Sam, Wali, Safaa, even Mum if she wants to. I’ll find a way, I promise.” Her voice cracks. “I’m not ready for you to walk away for good yet.”

Zayn nods. “Neither am I, _Baji_. Please call me soon. I’d love to do this under better circumstances.” Doniya nods and gives me a wave, tears filling her eyes again. Zayn waves back at the couple then turns around and heads back to the waiting room. 

His father still hasn’t returned when he walks back inside. Liam and his mother are chatting away quietly but they stop when Zayn sits down next to Liam and drapes an arm over his shoulders.

“Mum…” he starts, but Trisha cuts him off, placing both her hands on his cheeks. 

“No, Zayn, listen a second. I want to apologise for what happened all those years ago because I was such a terrible mother and a terrible person and I should have known, I should have _said_ something to you before it all blew up.”

“I love you and I never stopped loving you, I promise that. It’s just… hard for me to get my head around this but I’m going to try because it’s you.”

Zayn nods as best he can in his mother’s grasp. “I love you too, Mummy.”

Trisha stands up and pulls her son into a tight embrace. She pulls away after a few seconds but keeps a tight grasp on his hands. “I’m not willing to lose you again. I’ve spoken to Liam here and while it’s hard to accept, I can see why he did what he did. You clearly love each other very much and I have no right to tell you who you can or can’t love.” Her voice breaks at that and tears gently trickle down her cheeks that she hurriedly wipes away.

“I’m sorry to ask this of you but I need your father to come back to see Doniya awake so you should probably leave.” Zayn nods and laces his fingers with Liam’s behind his back, who stands up quickly.

“Waliyha has my number,” Zayn whispers, his own voice threatening to crack. “Doniya’s already told me that we’re going to arrange a day so I can see you and catch up properly under better circumstances. I would love you to come but you don’t have to.”

“No, no, I will,” Trisha promises, pressing her lips into his knuckles. “Thank you for being here, Zayn.”

“Thank Liam. I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t for him.”

Trisha pauses but then pulls Liam into a hug of his own, shocking both Zayn and Liam. Liam drops Zayn’s hand from his and wraps it around Trisha’s shoulders.

“Thank you for taking care of my son,” she whispers and Liam gives her a quick squeeze before stepping back and taking Zayn’s hand in his own once more.

Waliyha hands baby Sam back to Trisha and Zayn hugs her fiercely, peppering kisses onto the top of her head.

“See you soon, _bhayya_ ,” she mumbles into his chest. He then hugs Safaa and with one last fleeting look at his family he lets Liam lead him back to the lift and down to the waiting room. 

The second the doors close, Zayn tugs Liam into a fierce kiss. Liam kisses back happily until the doors ping open and they step outside into the cold downstairs waiting room. 

“Thank you for making me do that,” Zayn says, his arms hanging loosely around Liam’s neck.

“Not a problem, darling. I’m so proud of you,” Liam coos back, his hands running up and down Zayn’s slim sides reassuringly. Zayn smiles into one final kiss and then links their hands as they seek out Niall and Harry.

Niall is asleep on Harry’s shoulder as he flicks through Heat Magazine, completely unabashed. He elbows him awake the second he sees Liam and Zayn appear though and Niall nearly falls off his chair as Harry jumps up and pulls them both into a giant hug, Niall snuffling in as well under Liam’s armpit a few moments later.

“Did it go okay?” Niall mutters sleepily.

Zayn closes his eyes and grins, leaning into Liam’s side and resting his head on his shoulder.

“I think it’s going to be fine. Doniya is fine, my sisters are fine, my baba isn’t fine but I expected that…” He shakes his head and kisses Liam’s neck softly. “I think it’s going to be fine. Maybe even good, now.”

Harry beams and wraps his arms around his best friends again. 

“Thank fuck, now can we go home? Me back fucking kills!” groans Niall, stretching dramatically.

Liam hears Zayn laugh sounding lighter than he has for what feels like forever and thinks, yeah, things will be fine, definitely good, maybe even better.

*

Louis plays his first game as reinstated captain of Manchester United in February.

They have a hugely busy few months leading up to it. Harry, Zayn, Liam, Niall and Danielle all manage to submit their dissertations. They’re currently awaiting the marks back but they all know they worked their arses off and all are predicted firsts or 2:1s.

At the end of January, Doniya in a wheelchair, baby Sam, Laurence, Waliyha, Safaa and Trisha all come up to Manchester. Louis lets them all come to his house and Harry cooks a massive meal for them all while the starstruck Maliks make up for lost time with their son. By the end of it, Trisha and Liam are getting on like a house on fire and they already make plans to see each other again the next month.

Zayn is working up to going to Bradford to see his father but for the time being he’s happy just talking to his mum and sisters again. He and Doniya Skype at least once a week and he sends baby Sam small artworks he’s done to hang up around the nursery.

Liam could not be prouder of his boy and tells him so every day. He thinks he loves him even more now because he’s happy and more relaxed and less afraid to be himself. 

Zayn never has a bad word to say about Louis anymore because he knows that Liam loves him more than anything and he finally gets it. He definitely thinks he loves Liam even more than he ever has and he gets a small bird tattooed on his hand to match Liam’s feather, which makes Liam _very_ happy.

Danielle starts part-time dancing for big shows in Manchester so they see her less but Niall is very happy that she now has to practice wearing not very much. 

“Her thighs are so _strong_ now,” he says happily to the rest of the lads one breakfast time. “They feel incredible wrapped around my…”

Harry shovels a giant spoonful of cornflakes into his mouth to shut him up.

Louis trains hard throughout January and is back as Captain for their home game against Arsenal in February. Harry, Zayn, Liam, Niall and Danielle all go to watch him and sit in the family box and Harry feels his heart swell as the entire of Old Trafford chants “LOUIS LOUIS LOUIS LOUIS!” for what feels like hours.

Louis jogs onto the pitch, his Captain’s wristband standing out starkly on his arm. He gives a dramatic little bow and then his eyes search the stadium audience and find Harry’s in the private box. Harry blows him a kiss and Louis catches it and holds it close to his heart before going out and playing one of the best games of football that the country’s ever seen.

And as Harry rushes down onto the pitch and flings himself into his boyfriend’s arms and kisses him passionately to the enthusiastic cheers and catcalls of seventy-five thousand people, he thinks maybe they’ll be better than fine. Maybe they’ll actually be fucking perfect instead.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr tumblr tumblr](http://bigdaddypayne.tumblr.com)
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> oh, and i like comments and kudos a lot.
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